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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25226692">Your Reality</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/KupoWonders/pseuds/KupoWonders'>KupoWonders</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Persona 5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Existential Angst, Existential Crisis, Gen, Kinda, M/M, P5R Spoilers, Persona 5: The Royal Spoilers, Psychological Horror, Third Semester, a lot of awkward conversations, or just someone's cognition, spending weeks wondering if you're alive</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-20 07:49:07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>59,408</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25226692</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/KupoWonders/pseuds/KupoWonders</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Major Persona 5 Royal spoilers</p><p>All at once, Goro Akechi appears to be in a reality where supposedly everything is perfect, and supposedly everyone is happy.<br/>He hates every second of it. </p><p>(Or: how Akechi copes during the third semester in a world where his decisions have been erased and changed, with the ever growing suspicion that he might be as fake as the world around him.)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Akechi Goro/Amamiya Ren, Akechi Goro/Persona 5 Protagonist</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>81</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>288</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>So for some reason I was very nervous about posting this, but here it is: a long piece of melodrama about Akechi having a Bad Time in the Maruki's reality, but also maybe kinda making friends along the way? It's currently sitting at around 30k, with quite a few scenes to go, so it'll hopefully be updated semi-frequently.</p><p>Hope you enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Akechi didn’t know why he’d turned himself in. </p><p>He didn’t owe Joker or any of the Phantom Thieves a thing – he’d saved their lives, and they’d dealt with his monster of a father. That should have been the end of it, and anything that happened to them after that shouldn’t have affected him at all. </p><p>Yet he had found himself walking across the Shibuya scramble crossing on Christmas Eve almost in a daze, following Sae Niijima at a distance and not even being surprised when he spotted her conversing with the leader of the Phantom Thieves. He didn’t know why he had to step in after she had told Joker to testify against Shido, or what had possessed him to offer himself and the rest of his life to keep his rival out of prison. Even the beautifully surprised expression on Joker’s face – genuine surprise, something he never thought he’d see after the disappointing reaction he’d gotten to his grand betrayal – surely wasn’t worth trading his freedom for.</p><p>It wasn’t a fair trade, after all. It wasn’t justice – he had no desire to atone for his crimes, to beg people who were beneath him for forgiveness for dealing with the scum Shido pointed him towards. Maybe it was simply because he was out of options now; incapable of returning to the Metaverse, incapable of murdering his father now that he was sobbing in his own prison cell somewhere, incapable of returning to his life as the second Detective Prince. Where could he go now, aside from prison?</p><p>He’d always thought that he’d had a choice in where his life would go, but the last few months had proven that he was and had always been a puppet dancing for others’ amusement – so why not give them one final performance? The media had loved him, despised him, then loved him even more… why not show them how stupid they all were for latching onto him and believing in him in the first place? Why not turn his fall from grace into a grand spectacle, with every aspect of him that was too sharp, too cruel to fit the mould of the charming high school detective laid bare for the world to see? </p><p>He was certain he looked deranged in his mug shots, wild eyed and sneering at the camera, at the captain standing off to the side who he knew had been in Shido’s pocket. He recognised quite a few of the officers in the station, and from their pale faces they recognised him too. He wondered how many of them would be taking an extended vacation soon, and how many of them would be vying to be the one to conduct the interrogation, to personally witness his fall from grace. </p><p>He wondered how many of them would try to copy his own actions from November, sneaking a gun into the room and killing him before he could incriminate all of their little friends. He wanted to dare them to try.</p><p>He wouldn’t be like the Joker he had found in the interrogation room, silent and passive, just letting himself die. He was already facing life imprisonment, or the death penalty – he was going to take as many of these bastards down with him as he could. </p><p>So when the door to his cell opened on what must have been the beginning of the new year, Akechi was already ready to fight, to tear apart whatever idiot had decided to deal with him. Really, he should have known that something was wrong the minute he stood up and his body didn’t hurt from the interrogation the day before, where he had been a little too snide for his own good and the officer had punched him in the ribs. But was too distracted by the intruder and the flare of adrenaline that had lit up inside him as soon as he heard the door open, and then by the sight of Sae Niijima standing in the doorway and giving him a triumphant smile, to notice. </p><p>It wasn’t the sort of sneer that her Shadow had worn when she thought she had the upper hand, nor any other smile that she had sent him since she’d known the extent of his crimes. It wasn’t much like any other smile before that either, really – even back when he had first started working with her, she’d had little time for pleasantries. Instead she looked happy to see him, which was probably why the expression was so unfamiliar.</p><p>“Akechi-kun,” she said, still smiling at him like she was looking at a friend rather than an enemy, “you’re free to go.”</p><p>He blinked at her. He must have misheard. Niijima had never been one to joke, but she couldn’t possibly be serious. </p><p>“...What?”</p><p>“Shido confessed to everything,” she explained, still wearing that triumphant smile. As if that explained anything at all, as if that made a modicum of sense. “We have obtained evidence that he was solely responsible for attempting to overthrow the government, which his testimony supports. There is nothing that incriminates you.” </p><p>It took a moment for his mind to begin working again, because what she was saying was impossible. That kind of evidence didn’t exist, because it wasn’t true. Shido may have ordered the murders, but he wasn’t the one who pulled the trigger – and there was no way to prove that he was the mastermind either, as neither of them were amateurs who didn’t know how to cover their tracks. Besides, even proving Shido’s guilt would hardly exonerate Akechi himself. If she was just going to spout this nonsense, then why had they bothered interrogating him in the first place?</p><p>“Shido isn’t responsible for the psychotic breakdown incidents,” he told her. Had none of them heard a word he had said since he’d been in custody? “I am. I’ve already explained all of this to you.”</p><p>Her expression grew almost pitying, and a little flame of anger burst into life in his chest amongst at that. “It’s over, Akechi-kun. You don’t need to cover for him anymore.”</p><p>The anger flared, and his trigger finger began to twitch. </p><p>“I am not-”</p><p>He cut off as the door opened further, and an unfamiliar officer stood in the doorway. Niijima glanced toward them before turning her attention back to Akechi. </p><p>“Come on. We’ll get your things, and you can leave.”</p><p>He simply stood there, trying to figure out exactly what was going on and how they were going to use this situation against him. But he was drawing a blank, not enough pieces were available to solve this puzzle, and they were all watching him and waiting for him to move. For him to leave the cell he’d been so certain he would die in. </p><p>He could stay in his cell and wait for them to drag him out, or he could play along. See what was waiting for him outside of the cell. It had to be better than waiting for death, like the obedient servant Shido had thought he was.</p><p>So Akechi straightened his posture, affixed his familiar fake smile, even as he felt it stretch uncomfortably across his face after spending so long being almost genuine. He put on his mask, ready for battle once more. </p><p>“Well, then. Lead the way.”</p><p>*</p><p>No one was waiting for him outside the police station, friend or foe. Niijima offered to drive him back to his apartment, but Akechi declined, having no desire to spend an extended period of time in her company when he could be stretching his legs in the winter air. </p><p>It was New Year’s Day, apparently; he’d missed the countdown while he’d been in his cell, but as he made his way through Shibuya and toward the apartment he’d never expected to see again he could still see the signs of revelry from the night before. A few businessmen still clad in rumpled suits were staggering down the streets, and an uncomfortable amount of people crowding the streets were wearing cheerful smiles as well as yukata. </p><p>The atmosphere felt different to the last time he had been in the city. Perhaps it had been his own nerves corrupting the air around him, the thrill of Shido’s day of reckoning drawing ever closer making everything around him seem too slow, too stagnant, too oppressive. But now, even knowing that <i>something</i> was terribly wrong, there was still a pleasantness to the world around him that he couldn’t quite attribute to his newfound freedom. </p><p>So many people in the street were smiling at him when he passed, but none were screaming his name or begging for photos or autographs. That in itself was suspicious – it was almost as if no one recognised him, even though he was wearing the same signature outfit that he had been arrested in. He’d been at the height of his fame when he’d confronted the Phantom Thieves, fresh off the back of a TV interview when he’d marched into the engine room of Shido’s Palace, but now it was like he’d never been anything close to famous. Even if they hadn’t mentioned his name when he had turned himself in, that still did not explain the non-existent reception his presence was gaining. </p><p>Hold on. That interview, his confrontation with the Phantom Thieves… that had been weeks ago, hadn’t it? It must have been, if it was the new year. What had the media said about him, during that time? What had he been doing? The time between then and Christmas was a blur.</p><p>But he’d used Loki’s powers against himself, so of course it was. He’d been injured in the Palace; he must have been holed up in his apartment, recovering, while Loki’s chaos bled out of his system. He’d never used his powers on himself before, of course there would be side effects. Still, losing so much time was a side effect that he couldn’t have predicted.</p><p>Akechi forced himself not to frown, to keep on the pleasant mask, and found himself listening out for the conversations occurring around him instead of searching inward for answers he didn’t have. Someone had to be talking about him in some capacity. There had to be a mention of his name so he knew which piece of himself the public currently associated with him, so he knew what was safe to present to the world. But he didn’t hear his own name; instead he heard a thousand fragments that just seemed to add to the increasing tapestry of strange occurrences. </p><p>“I just won the lottery!”</p><p>“He asked me to marry him – he didn’t want to break up with me at all!”</p><p>“She’s recovering! They said it was incurable, but she’s getting better!”</p><p>Well. It seemed as though everyone was experiencing some sort of miracle tonight; the strange good fortune wasn’t just reserved for him. As he continued to pass smiling strangers prattling on about their good fortune he felt his skin crawling beneath his expensive shirt, a pervading sense of wrongness beginning to smother him. It felt like he was wading through some sort of broken dream, their happiness lulling him into a false sense of security so that when it was all proven to be a sham it would come as more of a surprise. He’d been inside enough cognitive worlds to know that lurking under every pleasant exterior was a shadow waiting to tear everything apart. </p><p>Was this linked to a cognitive world in some way? Had he stepped into a Palace without realising? He hadn’t said a word to anyone since leaving the police station, but he still surreptitiously slid his phone out of his pocket and held down the power button. The MetaNav would give him an answer instantly…</p><p>…except the power symbol flashed red on the screen, immediately sabotaging that plan. Of course the police hadn’t charged his phone while he’d been in custody, that would be ridiculous. </p><p>Not the Metaverse, then. Or, if it was, he wasn’t the one who had initiated it. But the only others who had access to the Metaverse were the Phantom Thieves.</p><p>Akechi glanced up, away from his dead phone, and found himself on the scramble crossing again. His gaze swept across the crowds with a little more scrutiny, searching for the familiar silhouettes of any of the Phantom Thieves, when one of the screens above him switched videos and caught his eye. He stopped dead in his tracks, staring up at the screen with dread pooling in his stomach. </p><p>It was an advertisement for Okumura Foods, which was suspicious enough – since the president’s very public confession and immediate death, their advertisements had been pulled from most media outlets, seemingly nobody willing to give them any screentime. </p><p>So why on earth was President Okumura smiling brightly above the most crowded place in Tokyo, his daughter beaming at his side? </p><p>They were holding dainty cups, and there was a new logo in the top right corner of the screen promoting some sort of coffee shop venture that was opening soon, and it was one of the most ridiculous things he had ever seen. </p><p>Akechi couldn’t stop staring at it. In what world would a company advertise itself with its disgraced and more importantly <i>dead</i> CEO, painting him like some sort of crusader for family friendly values? </p><p>“Oh, look at that!” someone said to his left, and when Akechi looked he saw a pair of girls staring at the same Okumura Foods advert just before the video rolled over to something less disturbing. “Don’t they look happy?”</p><p>“I saw them walking around Kichijoji yesterday,” her friend replied, and Akechi blinked. “I think they’re scoping out locations there?”</p><p>“No way, really? Huh, I guess a cute little coffee shop would do well there!”</p><p>They walked on, and Akechi found himself gripping the phone in his pocket tight. </p><p>So, people were winning the lottery and raising from the dead, and this was apparently perfectly normal. Of course it was. </p><p><i>There is nothing that incriminates you,</i> Niijima had said in his cell. Of course there wasn’t, if the most recent person he had killed wasn’t even dead. </p><p>The feeling of dread intensified, and he had to force himself to breathe. People moved all around him, ignoring him, no one so much as jostling him as they made their way toward their destinations, but he didn’t notice them. He was an island in a sea of happy faces, of people who saw nothing wrong with the world around them while his own mind began to spiral. </p><p>He had killed President Okumura. He had made a name for himself causing psychotic breakdowns and solving the cases that he had caused in the first place, becoming a celebrity. This was his truth.</p><p>President Okumura was alive. No one seemed to recognise him in the street, as though he had never once graced a television screen. This, seemingly, was the truth of the world around him.</p><p>How many of his other victims were suddenly alive? How many had never suffered psychotic breakdowns?</p><p>His fame was gone, because the crimes that had caused it were gone. That was the impossible conclusion that his mind kept falling onto. Somehow, his violent actions had been erased, and he was in a world where he’d never had to commit crime after crime to ingratiate himself to Shido, to never have to play the fly to weave a web and trap a spider.</p><p>All of a sudden he was an innocent. He was a nobody.</p><p>He was in a nightmare.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Akechi starts to investigate this reality he's found himself in, and has a cup of coffee in strange company.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>As soon as he reached his apartment, after showering and finally changing out of the clothes he had been arrested in, Akechi spent the rest of New Year’s Day looking into his past. He worked like a man possessed, searching for traces of everything from his TV appearances to searching the names of victims that he hadn’t thought of in years. He’d plugged his phone into the wall before doing anything else, needing to get enough charge in the battery for him to check that the MetaNav wasn’t active, and for him to search his call and chat logs to see that everything was still there. </p>
<p>He needed to know just how far this… strangeness had spread. If there was physical evidence of a change more than just his own mind playing tricks on him while he walked through Shibuya. </p>
<p>He kept reminding himself that he’d used Loki’s power on himself and that could have affected his mind, but the more he fell on that as an explanation the less it seemed to fit. It couldn’t excuse everything, and it certainly couldn’t explain why there seemed to be no trace of him online. His blog was still there, a testament to how far he was willing to go to perform for people who knew nothing about him, and was still mildly popular. None of the comments mentioned his detective work. None of the comments mentioned the Phantom Thieves. </p>
<p>The videos he’d bookmarked on his laptop of his more successful interviews, saved with the goal of analysing his behaviours to better shape his public mask into something even more desirable, had disappeared. President Okumura apparently had held a press conference back in October, but it was full of platitudes that seemed disturbingly genuine and thanks for the hard work of his staff, and was noticeably missing the part when he started bleeding from his eyes and died. </p>
<p>There was no mention of a calling card, no mention of the Phantom Thieves, and for some reason that had led him to frantically type their name with trembling hands into the search bar, and letting out a shaky breath of what couldn’t possibly be relief when there were multiple results. So the Phantom Thieves still existed, in whatever nightmare this was. He - <i>they</i> hadn’t been erased, even when Akechi’s own endeavours had been. </p>
<p>But when he looked a little deeper, there was something off about that too. There was a lot of buzz about them, multiple fan sites and even news outlets announcing them to be popular heroes of justice, but there seemed to be little substance to back it up. A PE teacher called Kamoshida had been arrested for reasons unspecified, a calling card left for him, but there was no mention of sexual assault, no mention of the attempted suicide of a student on school grounds. And, in addition to that, when an advert for Shujin Academy had popped up in his search suggestions it had been lauding the triumphs of their renowned track team. When he clicked on the link, a picture of a boy who was undoubtedly Ryuji Sakamoto stood with his arms around other team members wearing Shujin PE uniforms, grinning from ear to ear. As if he hadn’t had his leg broken and his team disbanded because of his own idiocy.</p>
<p>So, it wasn’t only Akechi’s mistakes that had been erased from this reality. That was interesting in itself. </p>
<p>Further digging revealed further deviations from the truth that Akechi knew. No calling card or change of heart for Ichiryusai Madarame, whose pupil’s artwork was already appearing in galleries with his name rather than his master’s under the frame. Very little change in the case of Junya Kaneshiro, but his crimes seemed to have less bite and fewer victims. Medjed stopped in their tracks almost immediately, neutralised a few days after the threat rather than at the very last second. </p>
<p>There didn’t seem to be enough cases and publicity to explain the Phantom Thieves popularity in this world, yet it was still there. The lives of its members seemed to be much less troubled than they had been, too. </p>
<p>Once his phone was charged up enough for it to begin to function again, it seemed that most of his contacts – mainly Shido’s cronies and television hosts who wanted to ‘get to know him better’ - had disappeared from his address book. The chat logs still existed, however, and he found himself scrolling through the few conversations he had been part of when the Phantom Thieves had tentatively allowed him to join them, feeling something horribly like relief that this hadn’t been erased. That there was still definitive evidence that he existed, and had been part of something even if he had also fought to destroy it. </p>
<p>And as he scrolled and came across Ren Amamiya’s rare commentary, he abruptly remembered his rival’s existence and almost dropped his phone. The world had changed, Akechi’s own crimes had been erased – what if it was the same for him? What if in this strange world Ren and Shido had never crossed paths, and he had never been sent on probation? What if he’d never set foot in Tokyo?</p>
<p>What if they’d never met?</p>
<p>He was searching for his rival’s name without pausing to think, eyes glued to a screen with rage and despair clawing at him as he found no trace of the articles announcing his arrest online. He’d been able to find them easily enough when he had investigated him months ago, but now they were gone, he was <i>gone</i>, and that wasn’t fair, it wasn’t <i>right-</i></p>
<p>If they’d never met, if Ren didn’t know Akechi, if he would be like one of those goddamn nobodies that had walked past him in Shibuya without a glance, without anger or respect or even <i>recognition</i>… then Akechi would find whoever it was who did this to him and strangle them with his bare hands. He hadn’t turned himself in to lose his rival, to lose the only person in the world who had seen every side of him; the hero and the villain, the trickster and the prince. He’d already lost his glory and his infamy – if he’d lost the only person who had ever truly witnessed him, then he would tear this beautiful, shitty world apart. </p>
<p>He stormed out of his apartment with his phone shoved in his pocket, blinking in the afternoon sun of the new day and marching toward his new target. There was one way to know for sure if Joker – if Ren – was still in Tokyo. A visit to Leblanc would clear up everything.</p>
<p>*</p>
<p>So the dead were walking in Yongen-Jaya too. </p>
<p>Honestly, he shouldn’t have been surprised, but there was a marked difference between seeing a man you’d shot in the head on a television screen and seeing one of your first victims sitting casually in a cafe, chatting alongside the family you’d devastated. He was almost embarrassed by the gasp he’d made at the sight of her, at the egregious crack in his facade, but he supposed that’s what happened when you’d been awake for over 24 hours trying to investigate a world that had changed overnight. </p>
<p>It took him a moment to tear his gaze away from Wakaba Isshiki – god, now that he’d seen them side by side her daughter did look a lot like her – but when he did, he felt a knot that had tightened in his chest all the way to Leblanc loosen and let him breathe properly again. Because sitting at the bar was Ren, whole and definitely still in Tokyo. He hadn’t disappeared, he hadn’t been stolen away from him, he was still there. And, unless Akechi was grossly mistaken, it actually looked like he was happy to see him – although there was still a lost, deer-in-the-headlights-esque look on his face that Akechi desperately hoped wasn’t mirrored on his own face. </p>
<p>Ren practically tripped over himself to leave the cafe with him, which would have been endearing if the world wasn’t falling apart around them both. Akechi led him to the laundromat, and felt relief all over again when it became clear that Ren remembered the truth. He hadn’t been forgotten, he hadn’t been erased. His rival still remembered him, and the way the world should have been. But he was still caught up on something that should have been unimportant.</p>
<p>“But… how are you alive?” Ren had asked him, an uncharacteristically sombre expression on his face. </p>
<p><i>“Oh, were you worried?”</i> he would have crooned if he could still be bothered to wear his princely persona. He would have flashed a winning smile, the corner of his eyes crinkling like Ren’s concern had touched his heart. But they were past that now; he was past the need to be a prince, or a hero. He’d already lost the attention of the masses, and he felt no need to try to claw it back. If he didn’t want to, he’d never have to fake a smile or pretend to be something other than what he was ever again, and god, that felt so freeing. </p>
<p>But Ren had asked him a question, and he had to answer. And without thinking, even though he didn’t have to, he crafted a quick, evasive answer. He’d given Ren all of his other secrets, why couldn’t he keep this one for now? He didn’t yet know what that truth was anyway – all he knew was that he was alive right now, and that would have to be enough. </p>
<p>Then Yoshizawa had called and led them toward what could be the source of the distortions in reality itself, and Akechi pushed those thoughts out of his mind. The sooner he found out exactly what had gone wrong with the world, the sooner it could be put right. </p>
<p>And the sooner he could shoot whoever was responsible for daring to try to erase him.</p>
<p>*</p>
<p>So it was some delusional therapist who thought he was doing the world a favour by manipulating reality to what he thought was best. A man in a white coat who thought that he was putting right the wrongs of the world and making everyone happy. </p>
<p>Akechi wanted to tear him apart. </p>
<p>How dare he? How dare this Maruki just erase the choices or experiences of everyone in the world because he decided that they were better off without them? How dare he make himself the arbiter of the world? How dare he think that he was doing Akechi a <i>favour</i> by erasing everything he had spent the last few years accomplishing? He bid farewell to Ren quickly after leaving the Palace – minus one Sumire Yoshizawa, and he’d have to see how her parents perceived her disappearance in a supposedly ‘perfect’ world – fuelled by the need to break something, to destroy a part of what Maruki had built. </p>
<p>Ren had his own goals to achieve in this week that Maruki had given them to live in his world; he had his precious teammates to check up on. While there was nothing expressively forbidding Akechi from joining him in this, he had no desire to observe his enemies (or were they potential allies now?)  swanning around Tokyo, completely in Maruki’s thrall. He imagined that Ren would gently coax them into realising the truth, his soft heart breaking for snapping these fools out of their collective delusion, and Akechi had no illusions that he would not help matters. With every grinning idiot he passed the need to hit them hard enough for them to stop blinding themselves to the real world and fucking <i>see it</i> grew stronger, and he didn’t need to alienate himself from the Phantom Thieves further by openly attacking them. (Again.)</p>
<p>Although, as he made his way back toward his apartment with the goal of actually sleeping and coming up with a plan of attack in the morning, he wondered if literally smacking sense into these people would work. Physical evidence of the imperfection of this ‘perfect’ world might wake them up a little, and a broken nose was hard to ignore. It might also be a good way of testing Maruki’s strength, to see how quickly he could turn some stranger in the street hitting you into a much less traumatic experience. </p>
<p>And so Akechi ended up punching a stranger in the face in the middle of Central Street. It felt like he broke their nose too, which was even better. The man howled, the friends around him shouting in surprise, and Akechi took a step back out of their range to observe. He wondered with a little rush if they’d swing for him next, and as they fixed wild, confused eyes on his face Akechi replied with a challenging smirk, daring them to underestimate him. (He probably shouldn’t still be itching for a fight after spending half of the day in that Palace, but if he couldn’t punch Maruki in the face then he supposed he’d have to make do. And god, being able to fight without holding back again was horribly addictive.)</p>
<p>But then, quick as the anger and confusion came, their expression smoothed over, and they looked at Akechi without a single hint of anger in their faces before his gaze slid away. Like Akechi wasn’t even there in front of him. Like he was nothing.</p>
<p>“Are you okay, man?” one of the stranger’s friends asked, and the man Akechi had just punched lifted a hand to paw awkwardly at the blood gathering beneath his nose. </p>
<p>“Y-yeah,” he said, and cold dread began to pool in Akechi’s stomach as the man didn’t so much as give him a second glance. “I can’t believe I hit the ground like that,” he continued, and Akechi stared in unabashed horror. “Damn, I think my nose is broken.”</p>
<p>“Maybe you should see a doctor,” his friend added, and Akechi watched as they moved away without so much as acknowledging him, making their way further down the street. </p>
<p>So, Maruki’s power was instantaneous. He could rewrite reality as soon as it became something that he didn’t like, and probably wouldn’t hesitate to correct their actions further if they continued to meddle with his perfect reality. Part of Akechi wanted to continue testing – he’d spent a lot of time around researchers as well as officers, and you never drew a conclusion from just one data point – but he could recognise the foolishness in that. Maruki’s patience wouldn’t be infinite, and he wouldn’t want to waste time repeatedly fixing what he probably considered to be little more than a tantrum. If he decided that he was too much trouble and started interfering with Akechi’s own mind directly to make him behave, or kept him out of commission for the week to ensure the happiness of the masses, Akechi would have no way to stop him. The thought chilled his blood, and Akechi knew he wasn’t going to risk his own autonomy just to punch a few more people.</p>
<p>He headed back toward his apartment, trying to hide how incredibly rattled he was by the scope of Maruki’s power. He’d spent months investigating Shido before he dared to so much as make contact, had spent years toiling away so that he could destroy him in the most effective way, and he wasn’t a man who would rewrite reality at the drop of a hat. He may have Joker’s assistance (for now – who knew if spending a week in Maruki’s dreamland would be enough for him to change his mind and decide to choose a lie over what was real?), but he had no idea how strong Maruki could be, or if he would bother to play fair. </p>
<p>He needed to know his enemy better and prepare a plan of attack if he had a chance of stopping him. But he was still a detective, even if the majority of his cases had been fabricated. He would investigate and find the truth. He would find a way to stop Maruki; his life depended on it. </p>
<p>*</p>
<p>As it turned out, Takuto Maruki’s cognitive psience research was painfully pedestrian. The few research papers that were attributed to him did little more than hypothesise abstract forms of therapy, discussing cognitive worlds in a benign way that did nothing to so much as hint at the existence of the Metaverse. Still, despite the painfully saccharine nature of the papers, Akechi read through every single document he could get his hands on. The further he dove into Maruki’s research, with its constant insistence that the best way to help those suffering was to forcefully warp their perception of reality into what he decided would make them happy, the more Akechi wanted to tear this so-called counsellor and his messiah complex apart. </p>
<p>It was sickening, that he seemed to genuinely believe that what he was doing was right. That he was  brainwashing the world and raising the dead, and for what? His own satisfaction? Because he knew so much better than the people he was supposed to be listening to and helping? </p>
<p>Akechi needed to arm himself with everything that he could, gain as much knowledge of Maruki and exactly what he was capable of in the week he had, and make sure that he and Joker were in a position to take him down the moment an opportunity presented itself. </p>
<p>So Akechi kept reading his inane research papers, and once they ran out, he moved onto any information he could find about Maruki himself. He was glued to the screen of his laptop for days, only pausing to sleep and raid the fridge that had been miraculously filled with fresh food despite his apartment having been sitting unoccupied for at least days, if not weeks. </p>
<p>He was trying not to think about the fine layer of dust over the things in his apartment, suggesting that he hadn’t been in there for a while, and the fact that he still couldn’t remember what he had been doing between Shido’s palace and Christmas Eve. If he hadn’t been in here, recovering, then where had he been? What had he been doing before he appeared in Shibuya?</p>
<p>
  <i> “How are you alive?”</i>
</p>
<p>He tried not to let it bother him that he didn’t know the answer.</p>
<p>*</p>
<p>Akechi visited Leblanc later in the week, hoping to catch Joker and ask on his progress. He needed to know if they’d be ready for Maruki in a few days, after all, and if they’d have anything resembling backup. </p>
<p>The streets around Yongen-Jaya were filled with the same grinning, brainwashed fools that had filled Shibuya, and Akechi tried to pay them as little heed as he possibly could. They left him alone, thankfully – doing little more than smiling at him when he passed – but when he turned down the street that led to Leblanc there was a stranger with unnaturally bright blue eyes hovering across from the cafe who stared at him unblinkingly as he approached. There was something unsettling about the boy, and Akechi did not return the smile he sent him. </p>
<p>“Hey Akechi,” he greeted, his voice completely unfamiliar, and Akechi grimaced.  Great, he thought they knew each other. “Are you looking for Ren?”</p>
<p>“...I am,” he said slowly, wondering why the hell this stranger knew who he was and who Ren was, and why he was loitering outside Leblanc in the first place. Did Sakura secretly want to adopt another strange kid? Did Futaba want some strange anime-esque boy hanging around? But if he was outside Leblanc because of them, then why would he know who Akechi was?</p>
<p>“He headed out earlier,” the stranger told him, gesturing vaguely toward the train station. “I think he was going to meet up with Haru? He was asking about where she was.” </p>
<p>“Wonderful,” Akechi muttered through gritted teeth. There was no way in hell that he was going to try to track Ren down if the Okumuras were going to be lying in wait. It had been bad enough seeing them on a screen in Shibuya, let alone in person. He cursed himself for not bothering to contact Ren beforehand, and spending the train fare on a wasted trip. </p>
<p>He began to turn away when the stranger spoke up again.</p>
<p>“Hey, you don’t have to leave! I’m pretty sure Futaba is in there, and she’d be happy to see you.” <i>Would she, now.</i> “We could all hang out together! I mean, I can’t just hang around waiting for Ren all day, right?” He let out a brief, awkward laugh that immediately let Akechi know that he had, in fact, intended to hang around outside Leblanc and wait for Ren all day, and Akechi wondered what the hell was wrong with this kid if this is how he wanted to spend his time in his ideal world. </p>
<p>He almost went for his throat when the strange boy bumped into his shoulder in a manner that was much too familiar, but he caught himself at the last moment. The boy started steering him toward Leblanc, already pushing the door open before Akechi could manoeuvre himself away or begin to insist that he had something better to do. The little bell above the door chimed traitorously as he was about to extract himself, and the cafe’s occupants turned to look. </p>
<p>“Black Condor returns!” Futaba howled almost immediately, throwing up her hands from where she was sitting in one of the booths facing the door. Akechi had to force himself not to wince at her volume. “And also Morgana. No fair, cats and Feathermen don’t work together!”</p>
<p>“I’m not a cat!” the boy beside Akechi protested, and a ball of something very much like horror began to coil in his chest. Oh god, please say that this boy wasn’t the cat. “Why don’t I get to be a Featherman too? I’m an important part of the team!” </p>
<p>“No one said you weren’t, Mona,” a woman’s voice interjected. Her tone was obviously patronising, playing mediator when she clearly wanted to be more teasing, but something about the cadence of her voice made Akechi freeze in the doorway. She was facing Futaba and had her back to him, only a short black bob in his field of vision, but of course that couldn’t last. </p>
<p>Wakaba Isshiki turned in her seat, resting an arm on the back of the chair and fixing them both with a smirk on her distinctly not-dead face. It was just as horrifying seeing her now as it had been the first time.</p>
<p>“What do you think, Akechi-kun?” she asked, and he thanked his years of posturing and performing in front of TV crews for not shuddering at the sight of a corpse talking to him so easily. “Would you let Mona take your role? Swap the anti-hero for one of the villains?” She cast a glance over her shoulder at Futaba. “The cats are the villains, right? Because feathers and birds and stuff?” </p>
<p>“Especially in season five,” Futaba confirmed with a serious nod, and Wakaba turned back to him with a victorious smile and a raised eyebrow. </p>
<p>Akechi was silent for a moment, wondering not for the first time if Maruki’s ‘perfect reality’ had been engineered to torture him specifically. The boy who was apparently Morgana gave him a little nudge when he didn’t speak, and Akechi plastered on one of his charming, made for TV smiles that he had hoped he’d never have to wear again. </p>
<p>“I’m afraid I’m rather fond of the role of hero,” he said, and immediately wanted to rip his own tongue out. </p>
<p>But Wakaba laughed, Sojiro let out a small huff from where he was cleaning cups behind the counter, and Futaba let out a cackle as Morgana deflated. </p>
<p>“The newest episode is playing later!” Futaba told him once her bark of laughter had subsided. “Are you excited or are you excited?”</p>
<p>Akechi blinked at her, wondering if he had ever had a single discussion about Featherman with her in his life. Clearly she thought he had in this reality – clearly here she was convinced that they were friends. And, he supposed, why wouldn’t they be? If he was friendly enough with Ren for ‘Morgana’ to think he’d come to see him, if her mother was alive and not rotting in whatever hole they’d dumped her body in after he had destroyed her mind-</p>
<p>But she was still looking at him, still waiting for a reaction, and he was just standing around like an idiot. </p>
<p>“I’ll make sure to try and catch it,” he said, barely able to form the words, and hoped that would be enough to mollify her. It seemed to be, as she simply grinned at him and turned back to the manga sitting on the table in front of her. </p>
<p>“Do you want a drink, Akechi?” Sojiro asked him, his voice the same calm and almost gentle tone he used with seemingly every teenager who stumbled through his door. When Akechi looked toward him Sojiro’s eyes moved purposefully over to the bar stool that Akechi had commandeered whenever he had decided to visit Leblanc and he smiled. </p>
<p>A drink. He could use something a lot stronger than coffee, and preferably somewhere at least five miles away from this cafe filled with the living dead and their overly familiar family. He shouldn’t stay – if he had any sense he’d leave and contact Joker personally later. He didn’t have the time for this, and he was already uncomfortable enough.</p>
<p>He sat down in his chair anyway. </p>
<p>“Whatever you recommend, Sakura-san,” he found himself saying, and when Sojiro brushed off the formality and insisted that he call him Boss, Akechi wondered why he had even bothered with the politeness in the first place. This world wasn’t real – none of this was real. He could be as rude as he wanted to be and they’d forget about it, the mild inconvenience wiped clean from their mind like a spill on Leblanc’s counter. </p>
<p>As Sojiro busied himself behind the bar, Akechi found himself thinking of the man he had punched in Shibuya. He thought he’d fallen, didn’t have a trace of the memory of being struck. In his memory he was no victim, and therefore there was no assailant either. Akechi’s violent action had been erased from the man’s mind, and with no trace of it, there was no trace of him. If tree fell in the forest and no one heard it, did it make a sound? If your face was bleeding but no one threw a punch, was there an attacker at all? </p>
<p>He wondered if Maruki truly would erase this meeting in Leblanc if he was rude. If he’d preserve their ideal of a perfect afternoon, uninterrupted by his presence. He could test the theory – throw Sojiro’s coffee all over him before leaving, coming back a few minutes later to see if his welcome was just as warm – but as Sojiro placed the cup in front of him he simply found himself curling his fingers around it, breathing in the aroma instead. </p>
<p>He didn’t like these people, he didn’t like this situation, but he loathed the thought of being erased so much more. What was the point in being alive if his every action would be erased? If he would be forgotten upon exiting a room, because his presence had been too distressing to those in it? </p>
<p>His fingers tightened over the cup, palms pressing hard against the ceramic even as the heat burned uncomfortably through his gloves. This reality was just another way to keep him under control, to manipulate his behaviour into something that better suited the desires of others. He’d been the simpering sycophant for Shido, the charismatic, charming detective for the masses, and now he’d be the pleasant, polite boy for the man who’d fashioned himself a god. </p>
<p>It was the same sort of conditioning that parents would use against an unruly child. You’ve been rude and aggressive, Goro, so you don’t get dinner. You punched a man in the face, so we erased you from his mind. You poured boiling coffee over Sakura-san, so your autonomy will be ignored until you behave in a way that I like. Behave badly, and become erased. Do it enough times, and maybe they’ll all stop remembering you entirely.  </p>
<p>Isshiki and Okumura can play nicely in the new world, so they get the nice toys, the families they can spend time with. They’re dead and they’ll have more than a life than you – they’ll be remembered and be happy while you’ll just be the child throwing a tantrum behind a pane of one-way glass, looking in on a world that you don’t fit into, forever. </p>
<p>Did you even survive in the first place, when your life means nothing here?</p>
<p>A hand landed on his shoulder, and Akechi was pulled out of his spiralling thoughts so sharply that he flinched. The hand withdrew itself instantly, and he felt even colder as he looked into the worried eyes of Wakaba. </p>
<p>“Are you okay there?” she asked him, concern just barely audible beneath the teasing smile. “You were zoning out. Like, <i>way</i> out.”</p>
<p>“To outer space!” Futaba added helpfully from behind her, and Akechi sighed. </p>
<p>“Existential dread overcame me, I suppose,” he said, removing his too-hot hands from the coffee cup, and Sojiro huffed. </p>
<p>“Oh, is that all?” Wakaba said, amused. She’d moved out of the booth and was perched on the stool next to him, and Akechi wished she’d move further away from him. He could smell phantom rot beneath the sweetness of her perfume. “Well, glad to hear that you’re only thinking about the little things.”</p>
<p>He didn’t reply, choosing instead to take a sip of the coffee that Sojiro had made for him. It was delicious, and an unfamiliar blend that he would have asked after in another life, when he had cared about that sort of thing. Wakaba was kicking her legs absently, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye with an expression that was much more reminiscent of a vaguely concerned mother than a calculating researcher. She still looked like she was trying to figure out how to best say something unpleasant though, so maybe there wasn’t too much difference from the woman he remembered. </p>
<p>“I feel like we haven’t spoken in ages,” she said, and Akechi bit his tongue. He had no desire to hold a conversation with her, but the part of him that had been searching through Maruki’s research to no avail reminded him that this was an opportunity to get a first hand account of how his resurrection worked. He’d be lying to himself if he said he wasn’t curious about that, and if that sort of information could possibly help them stop Maruki, then could he afford to ignore it?</p>
<p>He made himself a little more comfortable on the stool, turning slightly towards Wakaba, and tried to ignore how his skin crawled at the sight of her. He’d spoken to all sorts of unpleasant people over the years – he could handle a conversation with a dead woman, he was sure. </p>
<p>“It has been a while, hasn’t it?” he said with a smile, falling back into character so quickly that he almost forgot that it was all an act. “How has your research been coming along?” </p>
<p>Wakaba’s smile grew a little rueful, and she looked between him and Sojiro before looking at the counter instead. </p>
<p>“I’ve been taking a little break from research lately,” she told him, and Akechi paused. That… didn’t sound like Wakaba at all. </p>
<p>“...Did something happen?” he asked carefully. Her research was into cognitive psience – if any of them had an inkling about the workings of Maruki’s reality, it would be her. Especially if in this reality Shido had never interfered with her research, and she’d been able to delve even deeper. But if she was a construct brought to life by Maruki, would he really allow her to keep the tools that could lead to his undoing? That could lead to her own destruction, if she managed to realise her own unusual place in this world and logic herself out of it?</p>
<p>“An evil mastermind stole my brain,” she told him very seriously, and Akechi’s eye twitched in irritation before she let out a sharp laugh that was a lot like her daughter’s cackle. “I’m joking! Obviously! No, I just… I’ve been doing some thinking, and it just seems like time is short, you know? I mean, we only get winter break once a year, and if I’m spending it holed up in some lab instead of with Futaba… and Sojiro!” she added quickly, glancing over her shoulder to wink at the man behind the counter and grin at him when he blushed like a teenager, “-Then it just feels like I’m wasting my time. I’d rather spend time with them then be stuck in writing a paper.”</p>
<p>Akechi would never claim to be an expert regarding Wakaba Isshiki, but he <i>had</i> wandered directly inside of her head. He remembered her Palace, almost as stark white and clinical as Maruki’s, and the desires to prove herself and excel in her field that had become distorted by countless setbacks and Shido’s increasingly obvious interference. He remembered seeing a cognitive Futaba, an angelic figure seated on a throne, and hearing Wakaba preach about how everything she was doing was not just to further the field of her research but to protect her precious daughter’s future. He also remembered the rage that had consumed him at the sight of her, at this child who was so wanted and loved, just as vividly as he remembered pointing his gun at Shadow Wakaba’s forehead and pulling the trigger. But that wasn’t what was important at this moment. </p>
<p>She had loved her daughter, that was undeniable. But her love for her research was intertwined with that. She needed to work on her research just as much as she needed to spend time with Futaba; it wasn’t something she could just choose to ignore. The Wakaba he knew wouldn’t have an ideal world where she thought writing a research paper was a waste of time. But this wasn’t the Wakaba he knew, that was the whole point – so how much had been changed? </p>
<p>“Do you remember what happened over two years ago?” Akechi asked her suddenly. </p>
<p>He only realised how vague that statement was after it had passed his lips, and he was about to rephrase when Wakaba’s smile fell away and she looked away from him. Sojiro put down the rag that he had been using to clean the cups, and cleared his throat as he made his way out from behind the counter and approached Futaba and ‘Morgana’, saying something about Featherman that had Futaba balking and rushing to correct him. He was giving Akechi and Wakaba some privacy, Akechi realised a little belatedly, and Wakaba brushed away a stray lock of hair that wasn’t quite in her face. </p>
<p>“Yes,” she eventually said, abruptly more sombre. “I remember.” She looked up at him, the corner of her mouth ticking up into an awkward smile that he could have sworn he’d seen on Futaba’s face on one of the few occasions when she’d let down her guard around him, and then said what was probably the absolutely last thing Akechi had expected her to say. “I never really thanked you for what you did.”</p>
<p>If Akechi had been drinking his coffee, he didn’t doubt that he would have spat it everywhere. It was almost physically painful keeping his expression neutral at that, although he managed somehow, and told himself that he must have misheard her. </p>
<p>“I’m not sure I know what you mean,” he said, and was amazed at how composed he still sounded. </p>
<p>Wakaba waved a hand dismissively before leaning on the counter so that she was even closer to him. Akechi had to force himself not to lean backward to get some more distance between them. </p>
<p>“My Palace,” she said, and despite the circumstances something about her using the cat’s turn of phrase rather than the term coined in her own research papers rubbed him the wrong way. “If you hadn’t gone in there and stolen my heart-”</p>
<p>“No,” Akechi interrupted sharply. He felt abruptly cold, until the implications of exactly what Maruki had done caught up with his body and his blood began to boil. “That’s- that’s not what I did.” He almost winced at that pitiful deflection – he was losing his composure, he should have said something else, shut the conversation down another way. Wakaba was looking at him like he was being modest, like he was someone she respected rather than her killer, and he was definitely going to stab Maruki for this the next time they crossed paths. </p>
<p>“You helped me, Akechi-kun,” she insisted, and this was probably the most monstrous thing that Maruki could have possibly done. To have the woman he had murdered acting like he was some kind of saviour was so sick and twisted that he couldn’t begin to think why Maruki would have thought that was a good idea. To appeal to Akechi’s ego? To make him think that he was somehow a good person by erasing all of his crimes and replacing them with triumphs? To show him the ‘good’ that he could have used his powers for, if only he’d known better?</p>
<p>Was this what he thought Akechi’s ideal reality looked like? </p>
<p>He stood up abruptly, the coffee cup shaking dangerously and almost overturning before miraculously righting itself (because of course it did, of course not even spilled coffee could exist in Maruki’s perfect reality), and headed for the door. Coming here had been a mistake; he should have turned around as soon as he found out that Ren wasn’t here. Well done, Goro, this was what your morbid curiosity got you. </p>
<p>“Akechi-kun,” Wakaba began, the frown clear in her voice, but he couldn’t look at her. He could feel the truth on his lips, the urge to shatter this pretty illusion and let them know exactly how he had ‘helped’ Wakaba back then cutting into his flesh. He had to get out of here before he said it too harshly, and Maruki decided to remove this entire situation from their minds. </p>
<p>The bell rang cheerily as he stormed out through the door and into the cold January air, reminding himself not to go anywhere near Leblanc again until he knew that it had no chance of being occupied by the dead. He pulled his coat tighter around himself, and found himself almost longing for his prison cell. At least everything made sense within those walls.</p>
<p>He pushed that aside quickly enough, pushing away all thoughts of his own interrogation room and instead trying to dissect what had just occurred so that he could view it through a detached, clinical lens. </p>
<p>Wakaba wasn’t real, but she seemed somehow more… rounded than the other cognitions that he had encountered within the Metaverse, although there was still something that was undeniably off about her. He realised that he’d have to investigate Isshiki as well now, to see if there was evidence online that backed up her ridiculous claims in Leblanc, and grimaced at the thought. He should have done that in the first place, while he had been looking into Maruki’s research, but somehow looking into the woman he had killed hadn’t crossed his mind. </p>
<p>He still had a few days. He wouldn’t shy away from this, no matter how disturbing this ‘perfect’ reality was turning out to be. </p>
<p>He just hoped that Joker was making some sort of progress too.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Akechi and Ren go back into Maruki's Palace. They also play some darts.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Maruki’s cognitions weren’t like any other cognitions Akechi had seen in the Metaverse. </p>
<p>He supposed that made sense – they didn’t seem to truly be in the Metaverse when they were in his reality, so they must work differently. Regular cognitions were the product of the mind of the Palace ruler, but Maruki’s Palace was a separate entity to the reality he had created, and his Palace was occupied with beings that reflected ‘normal’ cognitions – so the creations outside of it had to be something different. </p>
<p>Although it made some sense for Okumura and Isshiki (and countless others who must have also been ‘resurrected’) to be some form of cognition, it didn’t make sense for them to be <i>Maruki’s</i> cognitions, specifically. He may have come across Wakaba at some point, but Akechi doubted that Maruki had ever met the CEO of Okumura Foods when he was nothing more than a cognitive psience researcher turned school counsellor. </p>
<p>So, if they weren’t Maruki’s cognitions, whose cognitions could they be? Were they based upon the thoughts of someone within his reality who had been close to them, most likely Futaba Sakura and Haru Okumura? And if that was the case, then were they more similar to idealised versions of themselves, rather than the real deal? He doubted that the real President Okumura would have wanted to create a cafe chain over expanding his fast food empire, or pose with his daughter when he could just hire an actor to do it. He must have better things to do than spend a day in front of a camera, such as harassing some of his subordinates. </p>
<p>He told Ren some of this over the phone, not particularly wanting to risk another disastrous trip to Leblanc, along with a brief summary of his awkward phone call with Yoshizawa’s parents, Maruki’s research, and what he had managed to ascertain about the man himself over the last week. Ren had little to add, but talking through his findings with him helped Akechi get everything straight in his mind, and made him feel like he hadn’t spent the last week wasting his time. He didn’t go into too much detail about the potential cognitions, and once he had confirmation that Joker was going to join him in Odaiba the next day he found himself relaxing a little for the first time since all of this had started. </p>
<p>It was unlikely that they would be able to stop Maruki tomorrow, but at least they could make a start, and that was better than nothing. Tomorrow he’d be able to tear some Shadows into pieces, and his fingers were already itching with anticipation. He’d done all he could to prepare, and had his sword and gun waiting by the door of his apartment. He and Joker could tear the Palace apart by themselves, but if they managed to get Yoshizawa-san back on their side, then they could do it even more efficiently. </p>
<p>Ren had probably wasted his time over the past week, trying to get his stupid, precious team to break through their brainwashing. Akechi had become familiar with the tactics of their teamwork, both as a team member and an adversary, and as much as he was loath to admit it he knew that without the versatility of the Phantom Thieves on their side they would be at a disadvantage. It had become clear initially when they had first set foot in Maruki’s Palace and found that between the three of them, none of them were properly equipped to be the team’s healer. Joker had to have remedied that particular issue by now, but there were bound to be other shortcomings with a team of two or three instead of four, with five others waiting in the wings. </p>
<p>Regardless, they would have to make do. The other Phantom Thieves wouldn’t be there to help, so he’d just have to be better and hit harder than any of them could. </p>
<p>He’d been fighting in the Metaverse for years on his own – Maruki’s Palace would be no issue. Even just having one other person on his side would make him unstoppable, so long as Joker continued to actually know what he was doing. </p>
<p>Maruki wouldn’t know what had hit him.</p>
<p>*</p>
<p>Akechi watched Joker fight Sumire with what was supposed to be a detached interest, but pity kept creeping through the more he watched. It was truly pitiful, seeing how desperately she was clinging to her false reality, how much she craved the life of a dead girl. He wanted to grab her by the shoulders and shake her, demand that she wake up and realise that calling herself Kasumi wasn’t going to change anything no matter what that madman told her. She would still be the exact same person, and all of her problems wouldn’t disappear simply by pretending she was someone better than she was. It was pathetic, how little of herself she could see. </p>
<p>He stepped in when Maruki interfered, posturing about how he was going to save her by keeping her trapped in her delusions while manipulating her Persona, her rebellion, her <i>self</i> into something that suited his own designs. Akechi doubted that he could accidentally kill her by only targeting her Persona, and Joker clearly needed help after the previous fight. Yoshizawa may not be the most formidable of opponents, but he doubted that soft-hearted Joker would find it easy to fight one of his ‘friends’. </p>
<p>Her Persona was dangerous, however, and once the other Shadows joined her and kept replacing their defeated allies the fight grew harder and harder. He was getting more and more tired with every strong physical attack he landed on them, and Joker was clearly getting tired of healing him. This was harder than he’d expected – and there was still Maruki waiting after this. He gritted his teeth, let his fury fill his veins and make him stronger. He’d have to use everything in his arsenal to make sure they got through this. </p>
<p>He could use Loki’s powers on himself again, he knew – that had made him stronger, even more aggressive. He could destroy her Persona… but he’d be out of control. What if he lost his memory again, or saw Joker as another threat? Could he really risk it, even if they started to lose? </p>
<p>He narrowly dodged a bless attack hurled his way from Yoshizawa’s Persona, and wondered how long they’d be able to keep this up, when there was a crash from behind them. </p>
<p>The Phantom Thieves stormed into the room with all of their usual grace. Skull, of all people, was leading the charge (which, Akechi supposed, explained the violent entrance), and the cat was definitely a cat once more and not some creepy boy. Akechi didn’t miss how they all immediately looked to him once they’d made sure that their leader was okay, like he was the true threat in the room, and he didn’t know whether to be flattered or insulted. Quickly enough their attention turned to Yoshizawa instead, hung up in front of them like a crucified corpse, and Maruki standing to attention behind her. </p>
<p>The Thieves may be reckless and unable to govern themselves without their leader, but once they were together they were a force to be reckoned with. Queen unleashed nuclear attacks that decimated the Shadows surrounding Yoshizawa’s Persona in an instant, stepping back once they were gone. Skull and Panther took her place, standing on either side of Joker like they were his generals, deadly and unyielding. They began to charge and concentrate their attacks on the Persona while Joker boosted their attack power, and Akechi didn’t hesitate before casting Debilitate once he realised just how much damage they were preparing to do. </p>
<p>He caught Joker grinning at him out of the corner of his eye, relief and pride shining in his face, like he hadn’t doubted for a second that his team would return to him, and in that moment Akechi didn’t have it in him to be bitter. There was something about all of them working together that calmed the itching bloodlust seeping through his bones, but somehow made him feel more powerful. As though he didn’t need to rely on his strength alone, because they were all there to back him up. And as an Agidyne swiftly followed by God’s Hand brought the rogue Persona to its knees in a matter of seconds, Akechi found himself matching Joker’s grin. </p>
<p>Maybe they had a chance after all. </p>
<p>*</p>
<p>The Phantom Thieves added Akechi back to the group chat, and invited him to meet with them at the nurse’s office in Shujin. They even found him one of the school’s garish PE uniforms to wear to keep up his disguise, and wanted his opinion before they acted. They were acting like he was a genuine member of the team, not the tagalong who was planning to betray them, and it was… strange. Not entirely unpleasant, he supposed, even if Sakura and Okumura kept sneaking him glances like it was physically painful to be in the same room as him. Which it may well have been, he supposed – he couldn’t exactly claim to have much experience teaming up with his parent’s murderer.</p>
<p>Some part of him still did have some ill will about the fact that because of them, his father was still alive and not in a shallow grave somewhere, but he at least had enough sense to know that his parental situation wasn’t comparable to the Thieves’. Besides, he had asked them to stop Shido’s crimes, and they had delivered, even if not in the manner he would have preferred.</p>
<p>But they had a plan now, and the manpower to back it up. Even if they had to wait until February to end this, even if they had to spend practically an entire month inside this disgusting reality, there was now an end in sight. They just had to fight through Maruki’s Palace, and then put the world back the way it should be. </p>
<p>Akechi wanted to go into the Palace right away, to get as far in as he could and decimate everything that stepped into his path, but Ren insisted that they shouldn’t rush into things, and instead take their time. So instead of stepping into a Palace, Akechi found himself walking back through the streets of Kichijoji, seeking the jazz club to distract himself. He only made it to the promenade before his phone buzzed in his pocket, and he pulled it out hoping that the Thieves had changed their minds and had decided to venture into the Palace after all. </p>
<p>It was Ren, but it wasn’t an invitation to storm the Palace, or even go into Mementos to prepare. Instead it was an invitation to play darts, and Akechi just stared at it for a moment. Was Ren taking this seriously at all? They had roughly three weeks to make it through an unknown cognitive world, probably the strongest cognitive world any of them had ever faced, and instead of preparing he wanted to play darts? Akechi had half a mind to text him back and demand he get his priorities straight, but he doubted that anything he said would change his mind at this point. The sun was already low in the sky – it was unlikely that even if they were all called to the hideout the entire team would make it there in time for them to make any progress. </p>
<p>So instead Akechi huffed a sigh and tapped out a quick agreement, changing his route from the jazz club and toward Penguin Sniper instead. It might clear his mind a little to hurl some darts at a board, at least. </p>
<p>Ren met him on the door with a smile, thankfully alone aside from the cat that was once again tucked away in his bag. Groups of the Thieves had walked past him into the club when he had taken to loitering outside there, and he had worried for a moment that maybe Ren would use this as a team building exercise, and he’d have to force himself to be civil. He was more relieved than he’d care to admit that this wasn’t the case. He didn’t smile back at him, or bother to remove his scarf despite the warmth in the club. </p>
<p>“701,” was the first thing he said to Ren, adjusting his gloves as Joker pulled out his own expensive darts set. “Unless you don’t think you can handle that?”</p>
<p>“That’s fine with me,” Ren replied mildly, spinning one of the darts over his fingers with a surprising amount of grace. “Shall I go first?”</p>
<p>Akechi swept an arm out in front of him in an invitation, and the corner of Ren’s lips quirked up in a lopsided smile. Morgana had poked his head out of the bag to watch them, and Akechi raised an eyebrow as Ren effortlessly tossed three darts in quick succession. All three landed on triple twenty, lined up in a row like soldiers. Ren turned toward him with a self-satisfied grin, and Morgana screeched ‘show off!’ just loud enough for some of the people nearby to look around for a stray cat. </p>
<p>“Not bad,” Akechi acquiesced, and Morgana let out a little scoff just as Ren held his hand up for a high five. </p>
<p>Akechi rolled his eyes and slapped his hand a little harder than was strictly necessary, scooping up his own darts and aiming at the board. </p>
<p>“I meant to ask,” Ren began, and Akechi scowled. Of course Ren could be quiet on his own turn, but not when it was Akechi’s. “What did you get up to on Christmas Eve?”</p>
<p>And of course he had to bring that up. </p>
<p>Akechi threw the first dart, and it landed gracefully in the black of the bullseye. He smirked, something uncomfortable that had been rattling in his chest calming a little. Unlike most things in this bullshit reality, darts was still simple.</p>
<p>“Nothing interesting,” he replied, reaching for the next dart.</p>
<p>“Did you see anything unusual earlier in the day?”</p>
<p>“Nothing particularly springs to mind.” He tossed the second dart, and it landed directly beside the first. Morgana shifted a little in the bag beside him, and Akechi saw him glance toward Ren out of the corner of his eye. </p>
<p>“He’s a good liar, isn’t he?” Morgana said, sounding impressed, as though Akechi couldn’t hear him. Akechi resisted the urge to toss the dart toward the cat’s head, and instead threw it toward the board. Three in the black, as always; his aim was as good as ever. </p>
<p>“You didn’t notice the blood rain, then?” Ren asked, and Akechi paused. Blood rain? What? </p>
<p>“I’m sorry?” </p>
<p>“You know, from when Mementos fused with reality?” </p>
<p>Akechi turned to face him, trying to read a tell in Joker’s face. A twitch of his eyebrow, a curve of his lip, but instead his expression was nothing but sincere. He glanced toward the cat instead – Morgana could never shut up for more than a couple of minutes – but while his ears were twitching he was watching Akechi with seemingly genuine interest. Neither of them particularly looked like they were about to fold and confess that no, nothing so absurd had actually happened. </p>
<p>“...I must have been occupied,” he said slowly. Lavenza had mentioned something about Mementos fusing with reality – the effects of that were what was speeding the world toward Maruki’s actualisation, that was the gist of what she had said, wasn’t it? But he hadn’t seen it, or if he had, he had no memory of it. Still, it was strange – if that had happened on Christmas Eve, and he had no memories before that… could he have somehow still been in the Metaverse for all that time? But then he should have been tossed out of Shido’s Palace when the ship went down…</p>
<p>He held up his hand for a high five. Maybe talking through his disjointed thoughts with Ren would help him draw a conclusion a little faster, but he needed more information first, and he was hardly going to back down now and tell Ren that he did not, in fact, know how he survived. Ren slapped their palms together, lingering for a moment before stepping past him and aiming his darts at the board. </p>
<p>“I think you were heading in to help,” Ren told him, moving the dart back and forth as he aimed it, and Akechi raised an eyebrow at him in disbelief. “We’d only just gotten out of the Metaverse when you showed up. There’s no way you couldn’t have seen it.”</p>
<p>Akechi pursed his lips to stop himself from immediately snapping at him. Surely Ren knew better than to think of him as some sort of noble fool who would charge into danger to protect the very people he had tried to kill. He should know that his act of self-sacrifice in Shido’s Palace was one instance that wouldn’t ever be repeated. Sure, if he saw blood falling from the sky and noticed that the focal point was in Shibuya he would probably go to investigate; but that would have been due to curiosity, not a desire to help. </p>
<p>Regardless, this was all hypothetical. He hadn’t been there, he hadn’t seen a thing, and while his strange circumstances may have been connected to the Metaverse, he had no way of proving that one way or the other. Ren wouldn’t be able to help, he’d had no idea that Akechi was even alive in the first place. He clearly hadn’t come across him before they’d met in the middle of Shibuya, so if he had been stumbling around in the Metaverse all this time he had no way of knowing. </p>
<p>It fit nicely with the timeframe, being trapped in another world until the world itself collapsed and set him free. Except Maruki had simply taken it over rather than letting it fade, and that didn’t explain his lack of memory. And the more he told himself that using Loki’s powers on himself had temporarily made him unable to form new long-term memories, the less it made sense. Surely if that was the case then he wouldn’t be able to remember the battle, or the cognitive version of himself. It wouldn’t make sense for the gap to be between the moment he had fired his gun and walking up to Ren on Christmas Eve. Not unless-</p>
<p>“Hey!”</p>
<p>Akechi didn’t jump, but he did look sharply over to Ren and Morgana, both of whom were staring at him. Morgana’s tail was swishing around irritably, and he twitched one ear.</p>
<p>“It’s your turn!” Morgana reminded him, and Akechi’s gaze flickered over to the dart board. Three triple twenties, again. He grimaced, and Ren wiggled the fingers of the hand that was already being held up for a high five, and had probably been hanging there for a while. He rolled his eyes but obliged, smacking his hand with force. </p>
<p>He half expected Ren to wince, or to shake out his hand afterwards, but instead he just chuckled like Akechi’s aggression was somehow endearing. Akechi grabbed his darts and quickly did a mental calculation of their score. 510 so far. If he copied Ren’s affinity for the triple twenty, then he’d boost their score to 690, and Ren would only need to get eleven to win. He could easily do it, show Ren that their skills were matched, but then he’d be giving him an easy win. One throw and it would all be over, and there would be no challenge. 41 was a much more awkward number than eleven. </p>
<p>He had no need to prove himself to Ren, and Ren seemed to enjoy showing off. So Akechi got another three in the black of the bullseye, leaving his rival with the more difficult number.</p>
<p>“Think you can get it?” he taunted, and saw Ren’s eyes glitter behind the glasses at the challenge. He high-fived him, but as Ren stepped past him and up to the line marked on the floor he paused at his side, leaning a little closer. His breath ghosted across the skin around Akechi’s ear, sending little sparks lighting up across his neck as he purred “watch me” in a voice that was much more Phantom Thief than awkward high school student. </p>
<p>Akechi forced himself not to jerk away, instead folding his arms across chest and trying to ignore how the sensation had travelled down his arms and raised goosebumps under his coat. It would take more than that to fluster him. Ren scored a 1, and Akechi wondered if he was distracted in the brief moment before he tossed the second dart, and it landed directly on the double twenty. Forty-one, achieved in two moves without hesitation. Akechi flexed his jaw to avoid grinding his teeth together as Joker turned back toward him, smirking like he was oh so clever. </p>
<p>“Well done,” Akechi said, because the result benefited him too. “An expected result from our cooperation.”</p>
<p>“We work well together,” Ren said, shoving his hands into his pockets and leaning back on one leg. His smirk had softened into a smile, and he was looking at Akechi with an expression that was uncomfortably fond. Akechi looked away and wondered if it was too early in the evening to make his excuses and leave. </p>
<p>“...We’re only working together to stop Maruki,” he reminded him. “Once he’s dealt with, I don’t imagine we’ll be working together for much longer.” He paused, smiling bitterly to himself. “Can’t exactly do much in prison.”</p>
<p>Ren’s smile fell away, and he shifted awkwardly on his feet before looking back toward Akechi with a serious look in his eye. “I’ll come and visit you,” he said, and Akechi scoffed. </p>
<p>“What makes you think I’ll let you come and see me?”</p>
<p>“It’ll get boring in prison. I can provide an intellectual challenge.”</p>
<p>Akechi scoffed again. Morgana looked between them, and stuck both of his front paws out of the bag. </p>
<p>“Are you two done with darts now?” he asked, and at Ren’s nod he brightened and pushed himself further out. “I wanna try!”</p>
<p>Akechi raised an eyebrow at him, how the hell was a cat going to play darts? But Ren was smiling again, and he turned toward Akechi. “Do you mind standing by the Mona bag? So the other people in here don’t see Morgana playing?”</p>
<p>Akechi shrugged but acquiesced, moving so that he stood behind Morgana and effectively blocked him from view. </p>
<p>“I hope you’re not completely terrible at this,” he said. “I don’t quite fancy spending the rest of my evening picking up after you if you drop all the darts.”</p>
<p>“Let’s play 301!” Morgana said, ignoring Akechi completely. “I don’t want to scare you with my skills!”</p>
<p>“Sure,” Ren answered. “I’ll go first.”</p>
<p>Ren wasn’t showing off against Morgana – he didn’t aim for triple twenties or the bullseye, just seeming to let the darts fly wherever they wanted to go. Morgana was… surprisingly not as awful as darts as a cat should be, but also nowhere near Ren or Akechi’s skill level. Ren was clearly going easy on him, playing worse than he had played against Akechi to drag out the game and let Morgana have the final throw, but Akechi didn’t find that as frustrating as he thought he would. </p>
<p>To his surprise, he found himself actually enjoying watching the spectacle that was a darts game against a cat, as well as the relaxed atmosphere around Ren and Morgana. They were completely at ease in each other’s presence, and even as the cat got excited and overly confident in his lacklustre abilities, it never got unbearably annoying. So he leaned back on one leg and watched them, content to observe from afar, but as Ren glanced over his shoulder at him to share a fondly exasperated smile every time Morgana proclaimed his proficiency a bit too loudly, Akechi realised that he wasn’t quite an outsider. He may not be playing, but he was still involved – he was still experiencing this alongside them both. He was still being included.</p>
<p>When he had spent time with the Thieves in the past, it had been forced, with neither party being particularly enthusiastic about it. It had been different when it was just him and Ren, but when it was just Ren Akechi was enacting a specific type of performance, one that involved going to places that he genuinely enjoyed visiting, and one that allowed pieces of himself that were real to bleed through. He hadn’t expected to enjoy spending time with Ren and another Thief at the same time, even if the additional Thief in question was simply Morgana. But it was rare that he got the chance to simply exist in the presence of others, to observe and not be observed too closely in response, to not have his every action analysed to the point that he had to pick and choose which specific face to show to the world in each moment. It wasn’t as though he didn’t enjoy performing, per se, but it was almost a relief to just be able to stop. To just stand there without someone bothering him every two seconds, demanding his attention. </p>
<p>So even though the cat was pathetic at darts, and Akechi could have been spending the remainder of his evening doing something more productive, it didn’t feel like a complete waste of time. </p>
<p>When they eventually left, the dark streets of Kichijoji lit by hundreds of lights, and Ren suggested that they do this again another night, Akechi found it easier than he’d thought to agree.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Akechi spends some much needed time in the jazz club, and the team eventually dives back into the Metaverse.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This chapter got very long, but I hope you enjoy it!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Days went by without any contact from the Phantom Thieves. There were no summons to the hideout for a return to Maruki’s Palace or to venture into Mementos, and whenever Akechi texted Ren to try to hurry things along he was answered with ‘not today’ and ‘we need to prepare first’, as if they weren’t already so much more prepared than when it was just the two of them. Surely the rest of the Phantom Thieves weren’t so out of practice that they needed almost a full week to get ready to step back into the Metaverse? </p>
<p>He tried to get back into the routine that he’d had before December: cycling at dawn, visiting cafes and restaurants to show his presence and get something to put on his blog. But the more time he spent out in public amongst those ensnared in Maruki’s web the more his skin crawled, and he knew that it was just a matter of time before he punched someone else, or resorted to even more extreme measures until Maruki decided that he’d had enough of him. There was no joy in going out among smiling fools who had no memory of him and no inkling of how trapped they were, and no need to update the blog to uphold a public image that no longer existed. If it wasn’t for the possibility that the Phantom Thieves would finally get off their asses and finally go into the Metaverse, and his own refusal to be anything resembling useless, he’d probably stay in his apartment and try to simply will this shitty world out of existence.</p>
<p>But now the sky was shifting from the bright grey of snow clouds to the deep violet of evening, and while the frustration at this entire reality was still burning beneath Akechi’s skin, there was always one place that never failed to brighten his mood. Even on the days when it had been hardest to remind himself that his revenge was coming and would be worth everything he’d had to do, Jazz Jin had been there for him – and it would be there for him now too. </p>
<p>Part of him was terrified that he’d enter and everything would be different; the staff having left to chase the dreams Maruki had decided for them, the décor changed to reflect a different owner who had a different vision. There was even a chance that Jazz Jin wouldn’t be there at all – the one place that had comforted him traded for something that would comfort more people, transformed into something that would better serve the masses rather than serving him.</p>
<p>Akechi almost wept when he turned into the side street and saw the jazz club glowing softly against the darkness around it, no queue to enter but the sign still sitting outside, a light dusting of snow sitting across the top of it. He made his way down the steps a little slowly, searching for something out of place, some sign that Maruki’s influence had defiled his sanctuary, but by the time he was stepping out into the club proper there was no sign of anything out of the ordinary. Everything was as it was the last time he had entered, and he felt a weight he hadn’t known he was carrying slide from his shoulders at the sight of it. </p>
<p>He returned the smile that Muhen sent him from his place behind the bar with a genuine smile of his own, and a quick exchange of words with him confirmed that the jazz club’s owner hadn’t forgotten him, and neither had his life been completely upended by Maruki. Akechi supposed that there was something pleasant about knowing that either Maruki hadn’t tampered with this place or that the jazz club was something that he was happy about running in every reality, but he refused to be grateful to the counsellor for not twisting his acquaintance’s mind. </p>
<p>Eventually Akechi slid into the seat at his preferred table, one near the corner where he had a perfect view of both the stage and the door, and placed his briefcase on the chair beside him. He was only there for a few minutes before one of the waiters came over with the special for him, and he found himself breathing a little easier when he recognised him too. Maybe, somehow, Maruki had managed to spare this place from his influence. As the music of the band began to wash over him, a soft pink cocktail sitting in his hand, Akechi began to feel the week’s irritation and exhaustion begin to seep out of him. He loosened his scarf and began to relax…</p>
<p>...and that was when a head of fluffy brown hair atop an expensive pastel pink coat appeared in the doorway of the club, and all of the tension snapped back into his body. Of course he should have known better than to think he could have <i>anything</i> nice in this world.</p>
<p>He saw the moment when Haru spotted him, saw her freeze at the foot of the stairwell like a deer caught in the headlights, and felt a small twinge of satisfaction that she was as uncomfortable as he was. He took a sip of his drink as he openly stared at her, daring her to turn around and walk right back the way she came, and watched her gather herself once more. She lifted her chin a notch, smiling cheerfully at the bartender and talking with him briefly before marching over to Akechi, forced smile fixed firmly on her face. </p>
<p>“Hello, Akechi-kun,” she said, courteous as ever. “Do you mind if I join you?”</p>
<p>He stared at her, but her expression didn’t waver. </p>
<p>“...I can’t imagine why you would possibly want to, but I won’t stop you,” he replied eventually. </p>
<p>She smiled at him like he had just complimented her, and she tugged a nearby chair over to his table, not bothering to try to go for the one that had his briefcase on it. She sat down beside him and removed her hat, placing it in her lap before folding her hands neatly, making a show of being comfortable in his presence despite the fact that he could see his own tension mirrored in her posture. He had the impression that she would just try to keep up some inane small talk if he let her steer the conversation, so he spoke up before she could. </p>
<p>“How do you know about this place?”</p>
<p>Haru pursed her lips and bowed her head almost apologetically. </p>
<p>“Ren-kun showed it to me,” she replied. “I like it here. It’s very relaxing, and the drinks are pleasant.” She paused. “Are you the one who introduced it to Ren-kun?” Akechi nodded. “I see. I’m sure he only wished to share it because he also found it an enjoyable place to visit.”</p>
<p>“I don’t have a monopoly on the place,” Akechi said, but he was beginning to wish that he did. Part of him was furious with Ren for daring to take other people here, to share one of the few places where Akechi felt at peace with others who could intrude upon it. He could always try to make them so uncomfortable that they would just leave, and the club would be his again, but that was a level of petty that he was uncomfortable stooping to. </p>
<p>The waiter came over with Haru’s drink, the same pale pink cocktail that Akechi was currently drinking, and Akechi tried to silently will them to spill it all over her coat. Instead the waiter looked between him and Haru and then <i>winked</i> at him, and Akechi abruptly wished that the ground would swallow him up. Were they completely incapable of differentiating between types of tension in a room? </p>
<p>He was still bristling at the implication when Haru broke the silence. </p>
<p>“Honestly, I’m glad I managed to catch you,” she said, and Akechi’s gaze darted over to her. “I had hoped that the two of us could talk privately at some point.”</p>
<p>He didn’t bother stopping his lip from curling at that, but Haru didn’t seem dissuaded. “Why?” he asked.</p>
<p>“I wanted to thank you for saving our lives inside the Palace,” she said, and it took Akechi a moment to even remember what she was talking about. But of course it was Shido’s Palace, and stopping his cognitive self. He’d forgotten she was even there at the time – everything inconsequential had faded away into the background as his attention honed in on what was important, like peering down the sights of a rifle. The other Phantom Thieves didn’t exist then. In that moment, it was just Akechi, his imitation, their weapons… and Ren talking to him on the other side of the door, trying and failing to hide the panic in his voice. </p>
<p>And after that there was nothing until Christmas Eve, but Akechi was definitely not going to think about that today. </p>
<p>“You’re welcome,” he said, taking another sip of his drink and hoping that would shut down whatever else Haru wanted to say to him. With any luck she’d take that as a cue to stop talking entirely, and he’d still have a chance to listen to the singer and spend his evening the way he’d wanted to spend it. He was certain he could put up with her company if she remained silent the whole time. </p>
<p>Haru mirrored him, taking a sip of her own drink and humming in appreciation before folding her hands in front of her on the table, leaning a little closer to him. He barely resisted the urge to lean back away from her to counter it. </p>
<p>“You’re different, from when you worked with us before,” Haru commented, and Akechi’s grip tightened on the cocktail glass a little. “You seem a lot more… aggressive.”</p>
<p>Akechi shrugged in response. “I have no need to hold up a pretence anymore,” he replied. “The ‘Detective Prince’ is dead. I have no desire to bury myself along with him.”</p>
<p>Haru hummed. “I think I understand the feeling,” she continued softly, and Akechi barely managed to smother his scoff. She glanced at him, absently stirring the straw of her drink with the tip of her perfectly manicured fingernail. Her nail polish probably cost more than his entire outfit, and he bristled a little at the thought. “I’ve been trying very hard to be civil now that you’re working alongside us, but...” She hesitated, and Akechi raised an eyebrow at her. She gave him a brittle smile. “I get the impression that you don’t like me very much, Akechi-kun.”</p>
<p>Akechi took another sip of his drink, mulling over her claim as she bowed her head as though simply voicing her suspicions aloud embarrassed her. Did he actively dislike Haru? Well, he certainly felt uncomfortable talking with her, and right now wanted her to leave his club and never come back. But there were precious few people who he would voluntarily talk to at all, so that wasn’t necessarily a good indicator. He’d trust her with his life – had sacrificed himself for her as one of the Phantom Thieves, although really that sacrifice had been meant for one Thief more than any of the others, but maybe that should count in her favour. So, on a surface level, he supposed he had no real reason to dislike her. </p>
<p>But on the other hand, he was a bastard who’d lived most of his life as an orphan, fighting tooth and nail for scraps from a table she had happily been seated at all her life by virtue of her birth. Fate had damned him while it had elevated her, and while he knew rationally that it was not her fault, his own circumstances not being <i>his</i> fault had never spared him.</p>
<p>Still unsure of whether or not the assessment was accurate, Akechi stayed quiet.</p>
<p>“I… I would like to know why, if you could tell me,” she continued, although she was beginning to fidget like she also wanted nothing more than to avoid this conversation entirely. “I had assumed that you were uncomfortable because of what you did to my father, that maybe you regret it-”</p>
<p>“I don’t,” he interrupted, unable to let that lie, and watched her tense at the interruption. “I don’t regret what I did to your father, Okumura-san.” </p>
<p>Her face reddened slightly, and he half expected her to knock over the table and lunge for his throat, showing him the bloodlust that he had seen her direct toward Shadows in the Metaverse. Her fingers curled in her lap and her knuckles shone white, but instead of attacking she simply took in a deep breath and she nodded to herself. </p>
<p>“So it’s a problem with me,” she summarised, and Akechi closed his eyes. Were they really going to do this now? Was he really going to be spending his evening explaining to Okumura why exactly she got on his nerves when he could have been listening to music and pretending that he wasn’t trapped in some backwards reality? Well, he supposed, opening his eyes and glaring at this pristine, perfect girl who had decided to show up where she definitely was not wanted, she’d probably never had anyone tell her to her face what they really thought of her. At least this would be a novel experience. </p>
<p>“I wouldn’t take it too personally,” he began, voice light, the smile on his face sharp as a blade. “I just make it a point not to think too highly of those who were born with everything they could ever want, who never had to fight for their right to be treated as a person, and then have the gall to complain about how tragic their life is.” </p>
<p>Haru simply stared at him for a moment, her expression frozen in shock, and he was going to take a sip of his drink before he realised he wasn’t done. “I don’t understand how you could even have a Persona in the first place,” he continued, hand that had been reaching for his glass curling into a fist. “A Persona is rebellion, righteous anger made manifest, and what do <i>you</i> have to rebel against? Daddy not buying you the right pony while he’s busy asking for his competitors to be murdered? Did you get a glimpse of the real world once and clutch your pearls so hard that you accidentally ripped your face off with them?”</p>
<p>Haru bit her lip at that and took a moment to compose herself. “I realised that my father only saw me as a doll that he could use however he wanted,” she replied, voice cold. “And I realised that I couldn’t stand that. That was what made my Persona truly manifest.”</p>
<p>“Welcome to the club,” Akechi sneered in response, and Haru made a small, breathy noise that it took him a moment to realise was actually a laugh. </p>
<p>“I suppose we are similar in that regard.” She was quiet for a moment, and looked down and away from him. “...You must have seen the cognitive version of me,” she said, speaking to the table rather than looking at him. “The robot.”</p>
<p>There was little point in pretending that he hadn’t been watching the entire battle against her father, waiting for the Thieves to turn their backs, so he didn’t bother to do so. “Yes.”</p>
<p>“So we’ve both seen what awful things our fathers thought of us as.”</p>
<p>Just like that, all the self-satisfaction drained from Akechi. He could make a point that the cognition of himself was worse, that sickening killer kissing Shido’s boots even as he was crushed beneath the heel. But he had seen the cognitive Haru turned into a bomb and launched against the Phantom Thieves, happily killing herself to further her father’s ambitions. </p>
<p>...Maybe their situations were a little more similar than he wanted to admit.</p>
<p>He sipped his cocktail again, getting dangerously close to finishing the glass. He could probably get a refill, but that would just prolong this already painful conversation with Haru, and he was already eyeing the door.</p>
<p>“...You said that my father asked for his competitors to be murdered.” She really just had to make this conversation even more awkward, didn’t she? “Did… did he…?”</p>
<p>“I was sent after them, yes. It was a combination of psychotic breakdowns and mental shutdowns. He gave the orders, which were passed from his contact to Shido for approval, and then to me to carry them out.”</p>
<p>He waited for her to point out that he was the one at fault, that he committed the crimes and pulled the trigger on both of their fathers’ orders, and already had a retort ready. But as he waited instead her lips curved down and her eyes began to shimmer strangely in the dim light, and he realised with dawning horror that she was starting to cry. </p>
<p>“I’m sorry,” she said, reaching into her coat pocket and withdrawing an embroidered handkerchief that almost eroded any sympathy he had for her. “I just… his actions against others always felt like… like distant, hypothetical things. E-even when I was in his heart, it was like… like a play, being performed by actors, because they weren’t real people. A grotesque, awful play, but a play nevertheless. They didn’t look like people, and it was all exaggerated. It sounds awful, but it felt like-” she dabbed at her eyes, “-like the only real thing that he did was what he did to me. Everyone else’s pain was far away, and I never saw it, so I never truly grasped it, but it wasn’t just me that he was using at all.” She uttered a little, undignified hiccup, and Akechi abruptly felt like he was trespassing on something he should not have seen. She wasn’t a pretty crier – there was nothing dignified about this, nothing that Haru would actually want to show the world, but she wasn’t shutting up or stopping. “He used you too, to do such awful things, and… and what was it even for?”</p>
<p>The discomfort at the sight of her crying abruptly curdled in his stomach, and he stared at her in disbelief. </p>
<p>“Hold on,” he said, barely managing to get his tongue around the words. “Are you… crying over <i>me?”</i></p>
<p>She didn’t respond, but she didn’t deny it either. Akechi leaned back in his chair, staring at her like she’d grown another head, and wondered why these Thieves were so consistently bizarre and so determined to see him as some pathetic victim. He almost wanted to smack some sense into her, but there was no way that would end well.</p>
<p>“I killed your father,” he reminded her, and then winced internally. Yeah, pointing that out to her was definitely going to make her stop crying, well done Goro. “Why on earth would you start crying over me?”</p>
<p>“I don’t know,” Haru admitted, dabbing lightly at her eyes again. She was doing a remarkable job at not smearing her makeup. “It’s silly, isn’t it? But I...” She sniffed again. “I’m afraid I can’t stop.”</p>
<p>“Well, try to!” he snapped, his discomfort making him louder, and she gave another pitiful little hiccup. He could feel his lip curling, his disgust at her pity becoming harder to hide, and felt the telltale prickle on the back of his neck of someone watching their display.</p>
<p>The waiters were starting to look over to them, and Akechi wondered if the next time he came in here they were going to give him a talking to about breaking women’s hearts. If he didn’t hate the thought of this world so damn much, he might have asked Maruki to make them forget about it and give him a break. Maybe Maruki would make them forget anyway, in some twisted attempt to get Akechi on his side. </p>
<p>God, this world was a disaster.</p>
<p>“You know,” she said, voice still wobbling a bit, and Akechi closed his eyes and started to count to ten, hoping that she’d realise that neither of them particularly wanted to have this conversation and would just <i>stop</i>. “In that week before Ren-kun spoke to me, where my father was back again… I knew that something was wrong.” He opened his eyes suddenly, watching her with much more interest. “I didn’t want to believe it, and I ignored it, but part of me still knew. But it… it wasn’t really him who was there with me.” She tried to smile, but it was some tiny, fragile thing that quickly fell apart. “If it was really him, he wouldn’t have been so kind.”</p>
<p>If he was a better person, or if he still cared about his public image, then he would have searched for some comforting lie to soothe her. But he wasn’t, and was much more interested in the hypothetical cause of the change from the father Haru had known to the one who had turned up in Maruki’s reality. Was he correct in his assumption that it wasn’t the real self brought miraculously back into existence, but a close individual’s ideal projected to the world? “But wasn’t it the version of your father you would have preferred to have?” he asked, shifting in his seat. </p>
<p>She looked at him then, her puffy red eyes narrowing a little. </p>
<p>“I wanted for him to be alive,” she said. “Anything else didn’t really matter.” </p>
<p>A noble sentiment, but clearly not true considering the version of her father they had both seen.</p>
<p>She sniffed again, but thankfully the tears seemed to have stopped. “But it wasn’t real. My father is dead, and running from that isn’t going to help me. I need to keep moving forward, and carve my own path. The man my father used to be would have wanted that, I think.” She sat up a little straighter. “And I live for myself now. I don’t need his approval, or anyone else’s.”</p>
<p>Akechi nodded. So accepting that her father was dead and the cognition was just that had probably caused him to disappear, because he was her cognition specifically. So, hypothetically, anyone who was a cognition could disappear if the person bringing them into existence realised that they were not real. It didn’t have to be Maruki specifically. That was definitely in line with what seemed to have happened with Wakaba as well. Were all of the people Maruki resurrected the cognitions the ideal versions of themselves, according to the individuals’ who wanted them back? What if there were multiple people who wanted them back, and wanted different things from them? Would there be multiple versions of those who were raised from the dead, or just one showing a different face to whoever looked at them? Was that so different to people who were alive, in the end? </p>
<p>A tiny smile broke out across Haru’s face, and his gaze flicked over to her. She took another sip of her drink, and then brushed a stray lock of hair out of her face. </p>
<p>“Anyway, I think I’ve taken up enough of your time,” she said. “Thank you for your company, Akechi-kun. I’ll leave you to it.”</p>
<p>She moved to stand up. </p>
<p>“You don’t have to leave on my account,” he found himself saying despite himself. “You haven’t finished your drink.”</p>
<p>She stared at him for a moment before her expression softened, and she smiled. “Thank you. I… I may stay a little longer, then.” She leaned back in the chair a little, clearly still nervous in his presence, but turned her attention toward the singer instead. “The music here is lovely, isn’t it?”</p>
<p>Finally, a conversation topic that he didn’t immediately hate. </p>
<p>“Yes, it is.” </p>
<p>He did have another cocktail after all, and even though the abrupt appearance of Haru had certainly derailed his evening and transformed it into something incredibly uncomfortable, it wasn’t ruined.</p>
<p>Good music could salvage a lot of things, it seemed.</p>
<p>*</p>
<p>After over a week of inaction, the Phantom Thieves finally formally infiltrated Maruki’s Palace – and were promptly blocked by the same unnerving tendrils that had seized Violet and turned her Persona against them. </p>
<p>Their next destination was changed to Mementos, and while Akechi loathed this block to their progress so soon, at least progress was being made. And, with Mementos back on the Thieves radar and Ren commenting that it would be an opportunity to carry out some Phan Site requests that they hadn’t managed to tie up before the end of December, it looked like a visit would prove to be an interesting opportunity for research. Maybe setting foot in Mementos would trigger some of his dormant memories – if he truly had been stuck in the Metaverse during the weeks he didn’t remember, then seeing more of the Metaverse may help. Maruki’s Palace hadn’t provided any answers, but Mementos was less sterile and orderly, and more wild. That unpredictability may prove useful.</p>
<p>Additionally, the fact that there were still requests on the Phan Site – and even more requests coming in, if his brief perusal of the website could be trusted – was incredibly promising. Clearly some people had fallen through the cracks of Maruki’s actualisation, and if they could find those cracks, then there was a chance they could widen them and tear bigger holes in this world. Dealing with Maruki’s creepy tendrils should make a big difference, cutting off his primary way of reaching the cognition of the masses, but there was no guarantee that would last very long. </p>
<p>Regardless, they would make do. He could put up with playing a part in the Thieves’ minor brainwashing escapades if it led to the destruction of a reality where free will itself was stolen. </p>
<p>So when Joker summoned the Thieves to Leblanc with the intention of spending the day in Mementos, Akechi was the first to arrive. </p>
<p>He had braced himself just in case Wakaba was still lurking by the bar, but once he pushed the door open the only other person inside was Sojiro Sakura, absently smoking behind the counter. He grimaced a little at the sight of Akechi, but gave him a nod in greeting. </p>
<p>“You all having a meeting?” he asked, voice gruff, and Akechi returned his nod. He grunted and moved toward the door. “I’ll flip the sign, then. Try not to make a mess.”</p>
<p>He paused as he was about to pass him, suddenly fixing Akechi with a hard look, his mouth pursed into a thin line. Akechi tensed a little despite himself, something instinctual loathing the thought of making any adult, even one as ineffectual as Sakura, unhappy with him. </p>
<p>“They told me what you did,” Sakura said without preamble. “Or what you tried to do anyway, when they brought that guy in beaten half to death.” Akechi almost commented that Sakura was exaggerating, that the police wouldn’t have roughed Ren up too much when they needed him conscious to sign the confession, but Sakura didn’t give him a chance to interrupt. “Now, I can’t tell you to stay away from them even if I wanted to, and if him and Futaba don’t have a problem with you being here, then neither do I. But I want you to know that if you try something like that again with either of them – no, scratch that, <i>any</i> of them – then I don’t care that you’re just some kid who was in way over his head, I’ll kick your ass.”</p>
<p>Akechi’s lips curled into a sneer. Oh, he would love to see this washed up barista try. </p>
<p>“I have better things to do with my time than to kill your precious lodger again,” he said, voice dripping with derision. “It probably wouldn’t stick this time either.”</p>
<p>Sakura grimaced, face reddening a little with anger, when the door swung open and the bell above it gave a cheerful chime. </p>
<p>“Hi!” Takamaki exclaimed as she stepped inside, twirling a finger through her hair and looking between Sakura and Akechi with a wide smile on her face. She was clearly oblivious to the tension, but before she could pick up on it Sakura was already leaning away from him, his posture softening now that he had an audience. </p>
<p>“Hey,” Sakura said, forcing a smile at her. “I was just leaving. There’s some fresh coffee and curry in the back, so help yourself.”</p>
<p>“Thanks, Boss!” Takamaki said cheerfully, just as loud as when she had come in, and Akechi wondered if she had anything resembling an off switch. Sakura gave him one last warning look behind her back before he stepped around her and through the door. Ann watched him go before turning back to Akechi, still smiling. </p>
<p>“You’re here early,” she said, leaning on one leg and tilting her head as she regarded him. “I wanted to tell you the other day but it slipped my mind, but I love your outfit. Your coat is really stylish!”</p>
<p>Akechi paused, tugging at his collar a little self-consciously, and fought down the instinctual smile that bubbled up at praise. </p>
<p>“...Thanks,” he replied, and Ann’s smile widened further. </p>
<p>“I love winter fashion,” she told him, and Akechi realised he’d made a mistake by encouraging her. “There’s sooo many combinations you can try, like even just a different jacket or boots can completely change an outfit! It’s like magic.”</p>
<p>Akechi hummed but didn’t otherwise respond, hoping she’d realise that he had no interest in this conversation, and made his way toward the empty booth at the back of the cafe. He placed his briefcase next to him on the chair, but that didn’t stop her from sliding into the seat opposite.</p>
<p>“The others will probably show up pretty quick,” she assured him, like he was a nervous amateur. “Then we can get going!”</p>
<p>“...I have done this before,” he reminded her. “We went to Maruki’s Palace together earlier this week, and I did infiltrate Sae-san’s Palace with you all.”</p>
<p>“Oh yeah, of course!” He simply stared at her for a moment, wondering how she could possibly have forgotten about that, and she gave an awkward laugh. “Sorry, this is still kinda weird for me. I’ll get over it, though!”</p>
<p>Akechi just nodded, not particularly wanting to encourage her to keep talking to him, and thankfully she pulled her phone out of her pocket and started watching the screen instead of him. He turned away from her, looking through the window in an attempt to spot any of the other Thieves before they appeared. Hopefully they wouldn’t take long, and they could get this over with-</p>
<p>Ann abruptly made a noise like a laugh that got stuck on the way out, and when Akechi glanced toward her he saw her looking at something on her phone with a wistful smile on her face. He was just about to turn his attention back to the window when he saw her eyes glistening beneath the lights, and she lifted one hand to swipe under her eye. Oh god, was she crying?</p>
<p>He looked away, searching for another Phantom Thief who could deal with this instead of him and frowning when there was no sign of one. The streets outside were still empty, and there were no messages on his phone warning of an impending arrival. He forced himself not to sigh as he realised that this would probably be even more uncomfortable if he just pretended that she wasn’t crying, and looked back toward Ann instead.</p>
<p>“...Are you alright?” he asked reluctantly, and she jumped a little as he spoke, as though she hadn’t expected him to say a word. </p>
<p>“Um, yeah!” she said, giving what was probably the most unconvincing performance he had ever heard in his life. It took a second at most for her smile to crumple on her face, and for her to turn back to her phone. “...No,” she admitted, swiping at her eyes again. “I, uh… I just got a text from my friend Shiho.”</p>
<p>For a moment Akechi was confused, wondering if there was a Phantom Thief he had somehow missed, when he abruptly remembered and felt ice gather in his stomach. Shiho Suzui, one of the victims of the first person the Phantom Thieves had targeted. The girl who had tried to kill herself.</p>
<p>“From the Kamoshida case,” he guessed, and she nodded in confirmation. </p>
<p>“Yeah. She’s been doing well since then – really well. Her rehab is going great – she can walk again now, so long as she has her crutches, and in a few months she won’t even need them either! She just sent me a selfie from the crepe shop on Central Street, she walked all the way there on her own!” Her voice cracked a little, and the wobbly smile she was trying her hardest to keep up kept slipping. A fat tear streaked a line down her cheek, but she didn’t even seem to notice. “She’s so strong. I don’t know how she does it. But I…” Another tear joined the first, and Akechi wished he had tissues or something so that he didn’t have to just sit here and watch this. “I saw her, a few weeks ago. When I was under Maruki’s spell.”</p>
<p>Akechi abruptly began to think he knew where this was going. </p>
<p>“Her legs were still bad, but she was so much brighter. It was just a stupid volleyball accident, not-” She cut herself off, taking in a deep, trembling breath. “She was happy. Everything was going her way, and that… that <i>thing</i> had never touched her. But now she’s struggling again, and doesn’t know that she was almost happy.” Another tear. “I took that happiness away from her.”</p>
<p>“Maruki took that away from her,” he said without hesitation, but Ann shook her head. </p>
<p>“Maruki gave her a happy life, and I woke up and put her back here. I know that it’s wrong to think like that, but all I can think about is how Shiho had a chance to be happy, to not have been hurt, and I took that away from her. She didn’t have a choice – she didn’t choose to reject Maruki’s reality, I did, and that affected her. What gives me the right to decide that for her?” She wiped at her eyes again, and sniffed loudly. “She was <i>happy.</i>”</p>
<p>“She was living on Maruki’s terms,” Akechi reminded her. His voice was sharper than he intended, but he made no move to soften it and coddle her. This world <i>really</i> had to stop throwing crying girls at him. “She didn’t deserve what happened to her, but in the real world people don’t get what they deserve. Would you really prefer that some counsellor with a messiah complex took away both her free will and her strength and pretended that nothing had happened? It still happened, regardless of whether or not she remembered it, and do you think your friend would want his bullshit pity? That she’d want you thinking that she couldn’t get through this without her <i>mind</i> being rewritten?” He found himself leaning closer to her across the table, even as she stared at him wide-eyed at his rant. “You said your friend was strong, that she was doing well on her own. So why the hell are you not believing in her?” </p>
<p>Ann stared at him for a long moment in silence, and Akechi leaned back in his seat and folded his arms, staring out the window instead. So what if she didn’t want to answer him, he knew he was right. </p>
<p>“Wow,” she said eventually. “You’re...”</p>
<p>“A jerk, I know,” he finished drily, wishing he’d grabbed a cup of coffee before he’d sat down. </p>
<p>“No. Well, kinda, but not right now.” She shook her head a little. “You’re right. Ren said something similar, when I talked to him about it, but… yeah, you’re right. It’s not fair to Shiho to think that she needed Maruki’s reality to get better, when she’s been doing so well without him. She doesn’t need me crying over what could have been, she needs me in her corner.” She nodded to herself. “Thank you, Akechi-kun.” </p>
<p>He glanced back toward her, and saw that she was now grinning at him and didn’t look like she was about to burst into tears again. “Guess I just had a moment of weakness,” she added, and he hummed. </p>
<p>“Better here than in Mementos,” he said. It was strange, to see such a genuinely happy expression aimed toward him of all people, but not bad. </p>
<p>“Yep! But now I’m going to beat up Shadows even harder!”</p>
<p>“Great,” he said without enthusiasm, wishing that she’d turn back to her phone. </p>
<p>The the bell above the door chimed again, heralding the arrival of a group of Phantom Thieves, and Ann promptly turned away from him in favour of greeting her friends. Soon they’d all be there and the meeting could begin. Then they could get this trip to Mementos over with, and maybe he would be one step closer to unravelling this reality they were caught up in, and his own strange place in it. </p>
<p>Something told him it wouldn’t be that easy, though.</p>
<p>*</p>
<p>Being in Mementos did nothing for Akechi’s memories, and being in the cramped car with eight other people did nothing for his mood. It had been crowded enough before Violet had joined them, but now that she was he was crushed in the back seat, practically fused to the side of the car so that he wasn’t pressed up against Violet’s extremely bare thighs. If things got much worse then he’d seriously consider just perching on the top of the car and hoping for the best, or dangling off the ladder – at least then he’d have a better idea of where they were going. </p>
<p>Joker and Queen were driving them around in circles, apparently having decided that they needed to scour every inch of every floor searching for stamps for some child’s inane game, and he was quickly losing patience. They’d dealt with some Shadows on the upper floors and had stepped into the new, bright white area of Mementos that was populated by unnerving, tentacled Shadows, but they were just driving around them rather than fighting anything. What was the point in even going to the Metaverse if they weren’t going to tear something apart? Why did they bother to bring all of them along if they weren’t even going to fight? </p>
<p>But just as he was about to say something to that effect, the ominous sound of rattling chains filled the air around them and all of the little conversations inside the car abruptly died. </p>
<p>“Joker, I think we should move on,” Queen said, already beginning to turn the car when Joker held out a hand to stop her. </p>
<p>“I think we can take it,” Joker replied, and a smile broke out across Akechi’s face. Now <i>that</i> was more like it. He always knew there was a reason why he liked Joker. </p>
<p>“I… I cannot endorse such a plan,” Queen said, as if she had any real say in the matter. “That thing is the most powerful Shadow in Mementos-”</p>
<p>“We’re stronger.” His tone was certain, not backing down or relenting in the slightest, and Akechi’s fingertips began to tingle at the thought. He’d never been able to take on that thing on his own, had never even tried, but to have the opportunity to take it down practically handed to him…</p>
<p>“We have a job to do, we can’t afford to tire ourselves out-”</p>
<p>“Queen, just imagine the EXP!” Oracle interrupted loudly from the other side of Violet. “Imagine the loot!”</p>
<p>“Yeah Queen,” Skull added, “the amount of money we’d get off that thing would buy like, a thousand beef bowls!”</p>
<p>Fox, who had been staring into space and seemingly not listening to any of their conversation, immediately straightened at that. “If our funds can be increased by such an amount, then we cannot ignore such an opportunity in good conscience,” he told them, voice sombre, and Noir giggled softly behind a hand. </p>
<p>“We certainly have gotten quite strong, Queen-chan,” she said, and Akechi could practically feel Queen’s resolve wavering. </p>
<p>“We would be trying to fight the physical manifestation of the general public’s fear!” she reminded them all, voice straining a little as she realised she was fighting a losing battle. </p>
<p>“And we’ll be the ones to make it beg for it’s miserable life,” Akechi muttered reverently, and an awkward silence fell over the car. Before someone else could break it, the chains rattled again, louder this time. </p>
<p>“I’d be honoured to fight such a powerful foe alongside you all,” Violet added, painfully earnest as always, and Queen sighed. </p>
<p>“It looks like we’re really doing this,” she mumbled more to herself than to anyone else, but quickly enough raised her voice again. “Good luck, everyone.”</p>
<p>“Hell yeah!”</p>
<p>“We’ve got this!”</p>
<p>The towering form of the Reaper floated around the corner, wreathed in unholy red light, and Mona launched himself toward it almost without prompting from Joker or Queen. Akechi was throwing himself forward almost before Mona transformed back into a cat creature, teeth bared, blood singing. This was what he was here for. This was why he’d been given the power of a Persona – to prove that he was so much stronger than this shitty world thought, and tear apart anything that so much as looked at him funny. This Reaper was just going to be the latest in a long line of Shadows that had fallen before him, and he was going to enjoy this <i>immensely.</i></p>
<p>…</p>
<p>So the Reaper was more of a threat than they had anticipated. Joker kept leaving himself open as he constantly swapped out his front line team, determined to find one of them whose weakness the giant Shadow couldn’t exploit, and then determined to do damage control once it became clear that all of them except Joker himself were weak to something the Reaper could do. </p>
<p>It was a battle of attrition, and as Akechi narrowly dodged another Hamaon that almost had him laid out on the floor, he was beginning to wonder if the others were getting tired. Joker had tried to keep him and Violet away from the front line after a few too many well-aimed Bless and Curse skills had sacrificed every last homunculus they had, but once Queen and Skull were too exhausted to keep fighting Akechi had returned, bathed in healing light to keep fighting. Mona was downing coffee at a rate that was probably dangerous for humans let alone cats, and Panther was concentrating on her attacks again but beginning to show her exhaustion. Soon she’d have to retreat, but the Reaper was showing little sign of its own exhaustion. It had to be nearly defeated by now, even if it didn’t seem to be…</p>
<p>An Agidyne hit the thing hard, but in retaliation it raised its gun and shot off a Mabufudyne, knocking Panther to the floor and freezing Mona solid. Akechi heard Joker curse from further down the row and glanced toward him without thinking, but the Shadow wasn’t done. A flurry of glowing papers surrounded him from all sides, and Akechi swore in the moment before bright, blinding pain shot through him, and he fell to his knees. He could vaguely hear Oracle shouting his codename as he blinked the stars from his eyes, rage boiling in his gut and shooting through his veins. </p>
<p>What the hell did this thing think it was? How dare this trash, this pathetic creature he could so easily crush under his heel so much as <i>try</i> to take him out? Better things had tried and failed, and it thought that some stupid spell in some shitty corner of Mementos could take him down? </p>
<p>He climbed to his feet with a sneer on his lips, and called Loki to him. He’d show this thing it belonged beneath at his feet; he’d show it a taste of his true power and make it cower at how damn pathetic and insignificant it was. He bathed himself in red light as he called forth the same power he’d used in the engine room, the power that made everything so much clearer and sharper and himself so much stronger. He was giddy on power, knowing that he could easily decimate this thing and the entirety of Mementos if he set his mind to it – the Thieves had gotten lucky in Shido’s Palace, but nothing would ever get the best of him ever again--</p>
<p>The world around him shifted, a grey, rainy backdrop creeping into the edges of the unnaturally white surroundings of Mementos, and as he glanced toward Joker an unspoken decision passed between them. They dived into the dark world of their combination attack together, Joker backing him up as Akechi charged toward their shared enemy, just like they had in Maruki’s Palace. A few well-timed swings of his sabre, and the Reaper exploded into black ichor, its existence splattering across the pristine floor before fading away. </p>
<p>Queen and Noir let out a sigh of relief as Skull whooped, but it was Joker’s breathless chuckle that rang in Akechi’s ears as he stared at where the giant Shadow had been. He was still running on a high, blinking at where the creature had been as though it would spring back to life, when his mind began to catch up with exactly what he’d done. He’d unleashed the same power that may have cost him his memories of the subsequent few weeks without thinking, just through an impulsive need to obliterate his enemies, just like the first time- </p>
<p>This time he had won, but there had to be another enemy lurking somewhere, didn’t there? Some other awful creature waiting in the wings, ready to steal his victory out from under him like he was the worthless one, ready to point a gun at him and fire so his chest exploded into blood and viscera, so the hyperfocus Loki’s power had granted him zeroed in on the star imploding behind his ribs, feeding on the breath stolen from his lungs. So bright that his vision began to fade, the shot ringing in his ears so damn loud that he couldn’t hear the Thieves already muffled behind the door, but it didn’t matter, nothing mattered anymore because he was dying, alone and unloved and in pain and that was the story of his fucking life so of course it was the story of his death too-</p>
<p>He took in a deep, gasping breath but couldn’t feel the air behind the bullet in his chest, the bullet that had hit him as Loki’s chaos began to fade from him, just like it was fading now. The bullet that he had forgotten about – no, not forgotten; he’d repressed it, he’d refused to acknowledge his final failure, the failure that was irreconcilable with his continued existence, but now Loki had stolen his his pathetic coping mechanisms as well as his inhibitions and laid it bare. </p>
<p>He’d been shot in Shido’s Palace. </p>
<p>He’d felt himself die. </p>
<p><i>If I’m my own cognition,</i> he thought nonsensically, <i>then this is how I disappear.</i> </p>
<p>He flinched hard as a hand landed on his shoulder, and he belatedly realised that someone was talking to him. A Thief? But that couldn’t be, they were on the other side of the door, the door that he’d put up because doing one selfless thing in his entire worthless life had to cost him it, didn’t it? Except he wasn’t in the Palace, he was in Mementos, and he was losing his goddamn mind. Losing his mind <i>in front of them.</i></p>
<p>“Crow?” Panther’s voice, high with worry and close to him. Too close, stiflingly close, and he still couldn’t breathe. “Hey, Crow? It’s okay, it’s gone-”</p>
<p>“Crow, you need to take deep breaths,” Queen said, going for a firm tone but failing in the execution as her voice wavered. </p>
<p>“Dude, what’s wrong with him?” he heard Skull mutter, disgusting pity in his voice that Akechi wanted to snap at, but then there was hand on his other shoulder, another person crowding him but rubbing circles like that would help. </p>
<p>“Deep breaths,” Queen insisted, and he took a massive, exaggerated gulp of air just to annoy her that he almost choked on. </p>
<p>“It looks like a panic attack?” Oracle’s voice was more a question than an answer, also pitched too high, but that had to be wrong. Why would he be panicking? He was always in control of his appearances even when others were in control of everything else, even if he was dead he wouldn’t embarrass himself, he wouldn’t lose control so terribly-</p>
<p>But if he was dead, then he wouldn’t be here. But if he was alive, he wouldn’t remember dying. Goro Akechi had been shot dead in the bowels of that disgusting ship, but he was here, so what if he wasn’t really Goro Akechi? What if he was just some fabrication that thought he was, some fake thing that couldn’t keep hold of a mask properly? That would explain why he was suddenly so inept that he couldn’t even <i>breathe</i>-</p>
<p>Black and grey suddenly filled his vision, and he jerked his head up sharply. Joker’s grey eyes, filled with concern, sat in front of his face, blocking out the rest of the world. He could still feel the hands on his shoulders – Panther and Queen, most likely – but Joker reached forward anyway, red gloved hands gently touching his, warm through the fabric as they wrapped around his fingers. He realised then that he was still gripping his blade tightly, and as Joker softly squeezed his hand he saw it shaking violently in his periphery. </p>
<p>“Crow,” he said, his voice a quiet rumble, and Akechi forced himself to take another deep breath. “We’re here.”</p>
<p>“I’m dead,” he tried to say, but the words wouldn’t pass his lips. </p>
<p>Joker squeezed his hands again anyway, still watching his face with an impossibly gentle expression that Akechi simultaneously wanted to keep forever and tear apart, and he had the sudden, uncomfortable thought that this was the first time in months or even years that anyone had touched him gently. In fact, as he registered the three distinct pressures on his shoulders and hands, this was possibly the first time in his life that three people had shown him something akin to affection at once. He closed his eyes tight, sucking in a breath and letting himself just sit in the moment without thinking about the implications of the fact that he was experiencing it in the first place, and tried to focus on the gentle touches and breathing. </p>
<p>Once he was fairly sure that he was breathing properly again, and the pain in his chest was due to the hyperventilation and the Hamaon he’d taken earlier and not the bullet wound from week’s ago, he flexed his hands and shrugged so that the hands holding him let go. They did so reluctantly, and now that he was free Akechi realised that somehow he’d ended up crouched on the ground. He stood up quickly, blinking a few times and grimacing at the sight of the other Thieves watching him like he was something fragile. </p>
<p>“Are you alright, Crow-senpai?” Violet asked from somewhere behind him, and when he glanced toward her he saw that it was Violet and Panther who were flanking him, with Queen just standing a little off to the side. Fox looked confused as well as concerned, while Noir was staring at him with an unreadable expression on her face. </p>
<p>“I’m fine,” he snarled, and Violet frowned but didn’t flinch at the viciousness of his tone. “I finished it off, didn’t I?”</p>
<p>“Yeah, but then you started freaking out dude...” Skull muttered, and Akechi shot him a glare. </p>
<p>“Um, we should probably get out of this area pretty soon,” Oracle added, gaze flitting between them all like she didn’t quite know where was safe to look. “I’m pretty sure that thing respawns, and we’ve been hanging around here for a while...”</p>
<p>“Say no more!” Mona exclaimed, flourishing his stubby little arms before transforming back into a car. </p>
<p>Akechi pushed past the other Thieves as he approached the doors, unwilling to give them another chance to impose their pity upon him or to start interrogating him about his reaction. They followed after him a little too slowly, and he ignored them as best he could as he made his way into the backseat and stared pointedly at the side of the car instead of at his ‘teammates’. </p>
<p>He’d need to keep an eye on himself over the next few days, to check if he was becoming forgetful, but part of him already knew that it would be an exercise in futility. He wouldn’t forget, because he hadn’t been forgetful over those weeks – he’d been dead. So instead he’d have to figure out to what extent he had been reanimated, and what had led to it in the first place. He’d have to check through whatever traces of Isshiki’s research still remained after Shido’s interference and Maruki’s actualisation for any references to individuals dying when they travelled through the Metaverse, but he was sure if such a thing had existed then he would have remembered seeing it. </p>
<p>He raised a hand absently, pressing his palm against his chest and feeling the slightly too fast beat of his probably-fake heart even through his gloves. Of course he hadn’t made it out of Shido’s Palace. He should have known better – even the disgusting doll of himself in Shido’s mind was more capable than he was. A worthless child to the end. </p>
<p>“Are you sure you’re alright?” a low, rumbling voice said far too close to him, and Akechi glanced over his shoulder to see Joker sitting beside him instead of Violet. He was practically sitting in his lap, and he could only just see Violet’s bright hair behind him.</p>
<p>“Ask me one more time and I’ll shove that mask of yours down your throat,” he said, putting on his sweetest, most charming voice, fully expecting Joker to recoil a little at that. But instead the corner of his mouth twitched in amusement, and he leaned back against the seats in easy acquiescence as if he hadn’t just been threatened. </p>
<p>He wondered if Joker would ever act the way he expected him to. </p>
<p>“Right,” Queen said quietly from the front seat – the front seat that Joker had abandoned to sit next to him for some stupid, asinine reason - “Any objections to us turning back for today?”</p>
<p>“What?” Akechi snarled before any of the others could answer, and he saw a handful of Thieves flinch. “We can’t turn back now, we’re almost there! We’d be wasting a day that we don’t have, we need to get to the bottom of this shithole so we can destroy this reality!”</p>
<p>The Thieves glanced between themselves, avoiding looking at him, and said nothing. They were deferring to Joker, as always, and so Akechi turned to him instead, glaring. Joker looked back at him, his expression carefully blank. </p>
<p>“...We’ll make it to the next rest area,” he said instead, and Akechi could practically feel the subsequent disapproval of the others combining with his own. This ‘compromise’ would make no one happy. </p>
<p>“There was a rest area two floors below us!” Mona reminded him, and Joker hummed. </p>
<p>“So there might be another one in a few more floors. We’ll get there and head back, or if that’s the end, then we’ll deal with Maruki’s interference and <i>then</i> we’ll head back.” Joker paused. “We can avoid the Shadows, and if Oracle scans the floor then we can just grab the stamps and move on.”</p>
<p>Akechi was getting sick of the little stamp hunt, but he recognised that this was probably the best he was going to get from them. He leaned back in the seat, turning his face away from Joker and the other Thieves, and flexed his hands in his lap. He wanted something to do, something else to break, but now they were apparently avoiding Shadows so he was just going to be stuck in the back of his damn car for a while. </p>
<p>At least the Reaper had been fun, before he’d lost his mind and realised that he was dead, but now he was thinking about how genuine his enjoyment even was if he wasn’t even alive. </p>
<p>This was complete and utter <i>bullshit,</i> but he’d get to the bottom of it. He’d have time after Mementos to do more research, work out who was responsible – whether it was Maruki, the universe itself, or some third entity that hadn’t decided to show itself yet – and deal with this. </p>
<p>He’d let others have complete control over his life. He refused to let them have control of his death too.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Akechi thinks about whose cognition he could be, and decides to pay someone a visit.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Mona carried on driving down the bright white tracks of Mementos, and eventually the Thieves around Akechi started talking among themselves again, as though the incident with the Reaper hadn’t happened at all. They made their way down to the depths, thankfully having passed the final rest area earlier, leaving only the last few floors and Maruki’s hidden laboratory. The laboratory was disgusting, bright and positively dripping with Maruki’s contemptuous need to be <i>helpful</i>, and he found himself explaining how Maruki was probably using Mementos to further his own ends while being endlessly surprised that the Thieves hadn’t figured it out yet. He’d been sure they couldn’t be that dense. Hadn’t they seen the homeless people still on the streets of Shibuya? Hadn’t they heard people complaining about their lives on the subway, in the streets? Clearly some people had fallen through the cracks, even if the ones that Maruki <i>had</i> gotten to were controlled completely, so it made sense that the man was systematically making his way through Mementos. </p>
<p>He wondered absently how Maruki had managed to wrangle the Thieves into his reality when none of them had Shadows to manipulate, but then again Maruki had potentially had contact with all of the Thieves individually over time and had been able to brainwash them in person. But Oracle got to work quickly enough, destroying his fancy little operation with a series of expert keystrokes, and Akechi found himself breathing a sigh of relief. They still had a lot more stamps to gather, apparently, but now that their path deeper into the Palace had been unblocked the Thieves seemed to be happy to leave Mementos for the day. Akechi had no desire to stop them, not now that their day’s goal had been completed, so he simply bid farewell to them on the train platform and made his way back toward his apartment. </p>
<p>However, once he was alone and didn’t have the distraction of Mementos, he found himself unable to stop thinking about his reaction to killing the Reaper, and the memory that had come back to him. He avoided thinking about the memory directly – it wouldn’t do to trigger another episode when he was out in public – but the implications of it had buried under his skin and left him feeling like a bowstring pulled too tight, far more fragile and volatile than he’d like. </p>
<p>An intensive search when he had returned to his apartment revealed that he had been correct – there was no research he could pick apart regarding a person and not a Shadow dying in the cognitive world. He was a special case, apparently, and that meant that he was an unknown quantity. His resurrection could be down to any number of unknown factors – the nature of the Metaverse could have returned his life to him, even. Maybe if people believed that they couldn’t die in the Metaverse, then it would make it true. </p>
<p>Except he’d known he was dying. He’d known the moment he had closed the bulkhead door, sealing himself in with the cognition and the Shadows, and he’d known- afterwards. There hadn’t been a doubt in his mind, and judging from Ren’s surprise when he had shown up at Christmas, there hadn’t been a doubt in the Thieves’ minds either. So if he’d felt himself die, and everyone in that room had thought he was dead, then the world based on people’s thoughts probably hadn’t saved him. </p>
<p>Akechi drummed his fingers on the side of his leg, staring into space and trying to think this bizarre situation through. There was a slim possibility that he hadn’t actually died when he’d thought he did – that simply the pain and the aftereffects of Loki’s powers had made him fall unconscious, and he had subsequently been expelled from the Palace. And had then… what? Remained unconscious for weeks while he recovered from a cognitive injury? </p>
<p>He reminded himself that he was an outlier – it was theoretically possible for that to be how the situation had panned out, and that he shouldn’t consider anything that happened in the Metaverse too improbable to happen. But, if he had left the Palace, then there would be evidence, wouldn’t there? There were CCTV cameras all over the Diet Building – he would have been tossed out somewhere in their vicinity, and at least one of them would have seen him. </p>
<p>He opened up his emails, hoping that even in this backwards reality he still had some semblance of police credentials, and sent a quick message warning that he would be visiting the building in the following days to view the CCTV to the email address on the Diet Building’s website. It was just a formality – he probably had his badge tucked away in his uniform jacket somewhere, and with enough smiles and bullshit about suspicious individuals loitering in the area in December they’d probably let him in. Besides, he was fairly certain that no one in Maruki’s reality was really capable of refusing requests anymore, which was a disgusting thought. He didn’t particularly want to take advantage of Maruki’s victims, but these people probably wouldn’t have refused him even if they had a choice about it. </p>
<p>Were the people in this world really much more than Maruki’s cognitions at this point? Or some sort of combination of their own cognitions and Maruki’s, their own ideals combined with what Maruki thought was best for them? Little more than dolls inhabiting Maruki’s perfect little dollhouse, behaving how he wanted and rewriting themselves when they moved a little off-script. Was that what the Thieves had been before they’d woken up? Joker didn’t seem to have been asleep like they were, and neither had Akechi himself.</p>
<p>But what if Akechi was a different kind of cognition? A cognition that had more in common with Isshiki and Okumura, because they’d also been dead before this had all started-</p>
<p>But if he was dead, then he wouldn’t think, he wouldn’t form his own cognitions. So if he was a cognition, if he’d died and there was no footage of him stumbling or being carried unconscious away from the Diet Building, then he wasn’t his own construct. He was the construct of someone else, a shell brought to life because someone had wished hard enough. No, calling him a wish was too clean, too sweet for what they’d done – they had conjured a fake version of him to stick in the dollhouse, a toy for them to keep and look at somewhere that he couldn’t escape. They’d brought him back to life just to trap. A butterfly with a pin through its thorax, its bright, useless wings preserved forever. A dog, muzzled and tied to a fence, told to behave. </p>
<p>In the moment he’d shot his cognitive double, he’d felt free. No longer bound to Shido, no longer bound by his own pettiness, or his need to be better than the Thieves and therefore incapable of being part of them. He’d known he would die, but he hadn’t expected to live much longer than the election and Shido’s downfall anyway. At least this way he would die free, by his own choice, with people who might even like him nearby. That was more than he’d ever hoped for, really. </p>
<p>If someone had brought him back here, erasing his last choice – potentially the only real choice he had made since he had knocked on Shido’s door and offered his services – and every choice he could make after that… then they were monstrous. </p>
<p>He raised a hand to his mouth, fighting back nausea that was threatening to overcome him at the thought, and tried to ignore just how violently it was shaking. He needed to think about this clinically; getting emotional wasn’t going to help. <i>Really,</i> he thought suddenly, <i>you should be thankful that you have the capacity to be disgusted by this,</i> and then that summoned the absolutely hideous train of thought of what kind of construct he could have been. </p>
<p>Imagine if he’d been the cognition of one of those vapid fans who followed him from cafe to cafe screaming his name, practically fainting at the thought of being in the same room as him. Imagine if one of them had wanted so badly for him to be their boyfriend that he had appeared in Maruki’s reality as nothing but the charming Detective Prince, his revenge non-existent, every edge that had kept him strong smoothed away, nothing but a TV smile and dead eyes. He almost threw up at the thought. <i>No.</i> Don’t think about that. Never think about that again. </p>
<p>But that horrible possibility led to another thought – the thought that whoever had willed him into this reality, if he had truly been willed into it in the first place, must have known him well enough to know that the Detective Prince was a lie. They must have known him enough to know that he had this apartment, to know that beneath the charm was aggression, to know that he’d killed Isshiki and Okumura and that he’d wanted nothing more than to see Shido bloody at his feet, begging for mercy that he wouldn’t give. There were incredibly few people that knew any of that about him, let alone all of it. </p>
<p>And one of them was sitting in prison, with a changed heart and nothing to do but think on his mistakes. </p>
<p>How sickeningly poetic it would be, for the man who’d had his boot on his neck his entire life to keep it there in his death, even after having a change of heart. Maybe it should have been comforting, that he hadn’t simply handed Akechi’s leash to someone else – it had stayed in his hand, where it always had been. But all he felt was sick, and used, and he was getting tired of it. </p>
<p>He’d check on the Diet Building’s CCTV, but first he needed to do something that, under normal circumstances he would never so much as consider, and under ideal circumstances would be impossible. </p>
<p>First he’d need to visit his father in prison.</p>
<p>*</p>
<p>The facility where they were keeping Shido was a little out of the way, but Akechi still made it to the entrance just as it turned nine o’clock in the morning. Arriving early had multiple benefits, but mainly ensured that he would be able to carry on with his day without major upheaval, and left his afternoon free to meet with the Phantom Thieves if they were smart and wanted to finish Maruki’s Palace early. </p>
<p>There was no way that this meeting would take all day – he intended to just get the information he needed and get out well before noon. He’d passed a cafe on the way out of the station that had looked somewhat appealing, so maybe once this was over with he’d be able to treat himself to the breakfast he’d felt too sick to eat earlier. He’d been half-tempted to arrive in his uniform, the tan coat and tie that he seemed to wear every time he went to see Shido, before he decided that doing so was both pathetic and illogical considering the light snow that was already fluttering down from the sky. Instead he’d just pulled his badge out of his jacket’s pocket and into his longer coat, and worn suitable winter clothes. </p>
<p>He didn’t hesitate before walking into the building, keeping his head high, and when he walked over to the desk and requested to see Masayoshi Shido in his most charming voice, flashing the badge and a smile, he was permitted even more easily than he’d expected. They made him turn out his pockets for any weapons or contraband, of course, but soon enough he was being escorted down corridors not unlike the ones he had been led through after he had turned himself in on Christmas Eve, toward what would presumably be a visiting room similar to the ones he had frequented in his detective work. </p>
<p>Shido wasn’t there yet, but Akechi was already disappointed to see the presence of a large glass screen separating his side of the room from the side that Shido would be on. More evidence that Maruki’s ‘perfect’ reality was designed to torture him specifically – if it was truly perfect, there would be nothing stopping him from reaching across the table and wrapping his hands around Shido’s throat, or from sticking his thumbs into his eyes and <i>twisting</i>. </p>
<p>Maruki’s reality really was just a series of terrible disappointments. </p>
<p>After sitting in the uncomfortable plastic chair for longer than he’d like, the door on the other side of the glass opened, and Shido shuffled into the room. His obnoxious orange sunglasses were gone, as was the expensive suit that he had worn without fail every time Akechi had seen him, even when he was getting drunk at some host club and trying to stick his hand up a waitress’s skirt. He looked like he’d aged ten years since he had seen him last, with a despondent sag to his shoulders and his head hanging limply, like the weight of his sins was so heavy that it was physically weighing him down. </p>
<p>Akechi found himself sitting straighter at the sight, a sneer springing to his lips, and watched as Shido glanced up and actually stumbled at the sight of him sitting there, waiting for him. Akechi watched as his eyes – pathetic murky brown, he hadn’t actually known – widened, and he found himself disappointed again. For years he’d wanted Shido to look at him like that – horrified, knowing that Akechi was the one who held the cards and that he was just some pathetic thing who’d only ever thought he was in charge. But now he could see that the horror in his eyes wasn’t born of fear, but of pity. He wasn’t horrified by what Akechi could do to him – he was horrified by what he had done to Akechi, and that emotion wasn’t even his own. If the Thieves hadn’t been in his heart he’d be proud, defiant, sneering up until he realised that he was trapped like a rat, and would die like one. <i>That</i> was the reaction he had craved, not this limp response.</p>
<p>“Akechi-san,” Shido said softly, and well wasn’t that a surprise. He’d thought about making Shido refer to him with respect just before he killed him, but he’d never expected him to do it of his own volition. “I am so sorry.”</p>
<p>Akechi’s face twisted with disgust, even as Shido bowed in front of him so low that his head was almost pressed against the table between them. The guards at his back shared a glance, but Akechi tried not to look at them and instead at this pitiful creature that was what was left of his father. </p>
<p>“For what, exactly?” Akechi hissed through his teeth, utterly failing to grasp the charming, unaffected tone he had been going for. </p>
<p>Shido dropped into the chair opposite him, more falling into it than sitting, and up close, with only the glass screen between them, Akechi could see the redness of his eyes, the snot clinging wetly to his upper lip. Sobbing already. What an embarrassment. </p>
<p>“I betrayed you,” Shido cried, full of wretched despair that just made Akechi angrier. This wasn’t the man who had laughed in delight at a murdered enemy, wasn’t the arrogant,  self-serving bastard who he tore apart in his dreams and who tore him apart in turn in his nightmares. This was just a shell wearing his face that had been forced to have a conscience. “You believed in me, and I betrayed that trust-”</p>
<p>Oh god no, he was <i>not</i> going to put up with this bullshit. </p>
<p>“I <i>never</i> believed in you,” he snarled, and Shido broke off, looking down at the table. </p>
<p>“You… you were right not to. I don’t deserve to live – I did terrible things, awful things. To you, to those who got in my way…” He trailed off, trembling in his seat. He raised his hands a little, like he was about to try to bury his face in them, before he stopped himself and took a deep, steadying breath. “I’m a monster. I killed people, just because it was more convenient for me-”</p>
<p>“No you didn’t,” Akechi interrupted. Why couldn’t the people in this reality take responsibility for their own actions? Why were so many of the people here trying to erase what Akechi had done? “I was the one who killed them. You’ve never gotten your own hands dirty when you could make someone else do it.”</p>
<p>Shido stared at him then, eyes wide and bulging. Akechi felt the eyes of the guards falling on him, but he ignored them – they’d ignored his entire testimony when he had actually been in custody, so he doubted that declaring his own guilt again would have much of an effect. </p>
<p>“...No,” Shido said after a moment, shaking his head slightly. “No, that isn’t right, you believed in me, you arrested my enemies, you didn’t-”</p>
<p>Anger roared up inside him, so sharp and sudden it made him breathless. Akechi slammed his fist hard against the glass, and this Shido was actually pathetic enough to jump. </p>
<p>“I am fucking tired of people insisting that I did nothing,” Akechi snarled. Shido was looking at him with slack-jawed shock, like he’d never so much as suspected that Akechi was capable of raising his voice, and Akechi wished that he could shatter the glass between them and make this thing with Shido’s face stop looking at him like that. Like he wasn’t just surprised to see his anger, but was <i>saddened</i> by it – and that was the stupidest thing for this monster to feel sad about. “Do you really believe you had any real power? You would have absolutely nothing if it wasn’t for me building you up – if it wasn’t for me you’d be <i>no one!</i> I’ve seen and done things your pathetic little mind couldn’t even comprehend – you couldn’t even imagine the shit I had to wade through to get to you, but I did it! You thought you were so high and mighty, and look at yourself now – some sobbing wretch in a pathetic cell that <i>I</i> put you in. I rose up through the filth you stuck me in, you thought you could use me and throw me away and still win, but you <i>lost.</i> You lost <i>everything</i> and it was all because of <i>me!”</i></p>
<p>He punched the glass again for emphasis, just as vicious as the first time, and Shido flinched again. He was still staring at him, a strange blankness in his eyes, his mouth trembling like he was trying to form words that he no longer knew the shape of, when suddenly clarity shone in his face. It was like the rose-tinted lenses Maruki had forced over his eyes had shattered, finally letting him see clearly. </p>
<p>“Akechi,” he said softly, and as Akechi stared at him he caught sight of his own reflection in the glass between them, wild-eyed and sneering. He looked like an animal, but if that was what it took for Shido to look at him and actually <i>see</i> him, rather than see whatever innocent thing he thought he was-</p>
<p>And that proved that he couldn’t have been Shido’s new, post-change-of-heart cognition, didn’t it? Shido clearly hadn’t thought him capable of the things Akechi knew he’d done, didn’t think his real personality was this abrasive one that didn’t sit well on TV, so Maruki had to have gotten to him quickly enough for him to be incapable of conjuring anything resembling the real Akechi. He’d forgotten what he had come here for, he’d been so distracted by seeing his father’s pathetic face. </p>
<p>Akechi withdrew his hand from the glass, surprised by the sting of his knuckles beneath his gloves. He’d known he’d hit it with force, but he hadn’t quite realised exactly how much. He leaned back, away from the glass, and began adjusting his coat and smoothing out creases that had appeared during his outburst, arranging his face into something more composed. </p>
<p>“I’m wasting my time here,” he muttered, moving to stand. He had all the evidence he needed that if he was a cognition, he wasn’t Shido’s. He wouldn’t get anything else from this.</p>
<p>“Akechi,” Shido repeated, and despite himself Akechi found himself looking up at him. “I… I’m so sorry for what I made you do.”</p>
<p>Akechi paused. Shido certainly looked like he was genuinely contrite, but nothing about Shido was genuine anymore, was it? The real Shido had been stolen away with his Treasure, as had any chance for him to achieve his real revenge. The real Shido was dead, and he hadn’t even been the one to kill him. </p>
<p>“And my mother?” Akechi pressed nevertheless, unable to stop himself. “Are you sorry for completely and utterly ruining her life, and driving her to suicide?”</p>
<p>Shido’s face grew ashen, but it was just another pitiful imitation of the remorse Akechi had been waiting his entire life to see. How the hell had the Thieves been satisfied by these responses, knowing that they were hollow? Knowing that he only felt sorry about it because someone had reached into his head and made him feel that way? </p>
<p>“Yes,” Shido said, the word catching on a sob. “Oh god, all those women I-”</p>
<p>“One <i>specific</i> woman,” Akechi interrupted sharply. He wasn’t going to let Shido get sidetracked by all the other people he’d hurt when Akechi was here right in front of him, burning to avenge one of them. He didn’t care about the other people Shido had ruined. He cared about the one he’d watched destroy herself trying to raise the useless child this monster had saddled her with. “Tell me her name.”</p>
<p>Shido froze, his eyes darting across Akechi’s face for a clue, and in that moment Akechi realised he didn’t know. The woman who had given birth to his child, the woman who’d tried to stay strong despite everything that he’d done to her, and he didn’t even know her name.</p>
<p>“I… I don’t know it,” Shido said miserably. “I remember her face, she looked just like you-”</p>
<p>“Shut the hell up,” Akechi snarled. “You probably didn’t even talk to her, did you? You just took what you wanted from her and left.” He shook his head, wondering why he had thought any differently. Even Maruki’s perfect reality couldn’t make Shido have a shred of human decency. “You’re a disgusting sack of shit. You should have died begging for mercy at the end of my gun.” He paused, looking at Shido, who was now shaking with barely contained sobs. “Tell me that you’ll suffer every day of your wretched life. Tell me that you’ll wallow in your guilt and shame and <i>drown</i> in it.”</p>
<p>“I… I will,” Shido whispered. “It’s… it’s unbearable.”</p>
<p>It wasn’t enough. Even with Shido sobbing in a jail cell, barely able to look him in the eye, it still wasn’t enough. But it was all he was going to get. </p>
<p>He turned without another word, walking toward the door.</p>
<p>“Akechi,” Shido called again, and again Akechi found himself stopping, as if anything Shido had to say was worth his time. Instinct ingrained in him over the last couple of years was hard to shake. “I do not expect to ever get your forgiveness, and I do not deserve it. But I… I hope that you can get past what I’ve done and make better use of your brilliance. I never gave you the respect that you deserved.”</p>
<p>Akechi wanted to tell him that his opinion meant nothing, that he didn’t give a shit that Shido had suddenly decided that he was someone worthy of respect, but despite himself, despite everything that he had been through and everything he’d seen, that still made some pathetic part of himself that craved recognition swell in his chest. He didn’t turn around, or otherwise do anything to acknowledge Shido’s words. The guards on the door stepped aside to let him past, and Akechi pulled open the door and stormed out of the room, leaving his father behind him to live out the rest of his miserable life. </p>
<p>*</p>
<p>Akechi made it to the underground walkway in Shibuya before he started to think that the uncomfortable buzzing in the edges of his head may not just be a side effect of the anger response to seeing Shido and may actually be something to do with the fact that he hadn’t eaten yet that day. So after quickly acquiring a pastry from one of the bakeries and one of those severely overpriced smoothies, he found a space of unoccupied wall to lean against and eat his ‘breakfast’. If they weren’t going into the Metaverse today then he’d make his way over to the Diet Building, and get an answer regarding the CCTV.</p>
<p>It had been foolish to go to see Shido first, before he had concrete evidence either way. That was the sort of sloppy, amateur behaviour that he wouldn’t have forgiven himself for in the past. He couldn’t keep letting his shitty emotions get in the way; he needed to channel them into something productive and preferably violent, just like he had before. He should just put all of his efforts into stopping Maruki – it ultimately didn’t matter if he was a cognition or not, after all. If this reality persisted, then whether he was alive or dead made no difference. He’d be equally trapped, and he refused to be. </p>
<p>He still wanted to know the truth, however, even if it wouldn’t change anything. Maybe it was because he’d been pretending to be a detective for so long, but now he felt the need to get his hands on any information he could, even if it didn’t actively benefit him. If he just let this lie he knew it would continue to gnaw at him.</p>
<p>“Your expression is fascinating.”</p>
<p>Akechi almost jumped at the deadpan comment uttered so close to him, and he turned sharply to catch sight of Yusuke Kitagawa staring at him intently, long fingers forming a frame that he was peering through. Akechi swallowed the mouthful of smoothie he had almost choked on and forced himself not to openly glare at his teammate (and oh, wasn’t that such a strange thought that they were <i>teammates</i>) and took a moment to arrange his face into something that was hopefully more neutral. A crease formed between Kitagawa’s eyebrows at the disappearance of whatever expression had caught his eye, and Akechi sent him a dazzling smile.</p>
<p>“Is that so?” Akechi asked, just to be annoying. </p>
<p>“Frustration sits strangely on your face,” Kitagawa told him, and Akechi let the smile drop. “It suits you and it doesn’t, all at once. It is a fascinating thing to witness without the mask of the Metaverse obstructing it.” He tilted his head to the left, blinking languidly. “What has frustrated you, Akechi-kun? Is your meal not to your liking?”</p>
<p>“My meal is fine,” Akechi said. “Maybe I’m just getting more and more sick of this bullshit reality with every crappy day I have to spend in it.”</p>
<p>Kitagawa gave him a serious nod, seemingly unaffected by his language despite seemingly every Phantom Thief having something to say about Sakamoto’s vulgarity. Maybe they had decided to give him a free pass on the condition that he didn’t shoot anyone again or something. </p>
<p>“It certainly is an unnerving situation,” Yusuke agreed. “I don’t particularly enjoy thinking on it, but I suppose the myriad of emotions that it raises can provide inspiration for my paintings. I’m actually contemplating a new piece, regarding the struggle between the reconciliation of the ideal and the actual self, inspired by the unusual changes that have taken place here.”</p>
<p>“Wonderful,” Akechi said dryly, wondering why he was even entertaining this conversation. </p>
<p>“Perhaps painting could help you ease your frustrations,” Yusuke suggested, and Akechi had to bite back a laugh. “It can be very soothing.”</p>
<p>“Unless I’m painting with Shido’s blood, I can’t imagine it’d be particularly therapeutic,” he replied, and immediately pulled a face. Ugh, that was too melodramatic. He was used to embarrassing himself when in Ren’s presence, but being the embarrassing one between him and <i>Kitagawa</i> was humiliating. Yusuke pursed his lips, and his eyes moved away from him.</p>
<p>“I had not realised that he was still on your mind,” Yusuke admitted, and Akechi sent him a dark look. </p>
<p>“Madarame may have slipped your mind once he was behind bars, but I haven’t been quite as fortunate,” Akechi snarled, and Yusuke looked back to him, his own expression carefully flat. </p>
<p>“Madarame has never slipped my mind,” Yusuke stated. “I think of him and his influence on my life every day. I cannot hold a brush or so much as look at a canvas without thinking of what he truly thought of my brushstrokes, or how he would critique my pieces. However, I choose to move past it.” He paused. “I have not truly spoken to him in over half a year, but recently I… I sent one of my sketches to the prison in which he is residing. Truly, I don’t know why I sent it. Perhaps through some sort of… petty desire to prove that I am still creating, even without his influence, but maybe it was nothing like that.” He looked away, staring at a spot just to the right of Akechi’s head. “Perhaps I simply wished for him to see it.”</p>
<p>Akechi wanted to sneer at him, to call out his pitiful desire to be acknowledged by his disgusting father figure for what it was, but he didn’t have the energy to be a hypocrite today. </p>
<p>“What was the sketch?” he asked instead.</p>
<p>“It was an albatross, I believe.”</p>
<p>Akechi nodded, and while he knew that he could and probably should leave it at that, he couldn’t quite stop himself. </p>
<p>“I don’t understand how you can stand to continue painting, if it is so intrinsically linked with him in your mind.”</p>
<p>“You can still bear to step into the Metaverse, despite using your powers for Shido,” Yusuke pointed out with no inflection. “I have always been captivated by art, ever since I laid eyes on the Sayuri. Painting is my passion. I will allow nothing to steer me from this.”</p>
<p>Akechi grimaced. Everything that had driven him had died with Shido’s distorted desires – his need to improve his powers, to become a beloved celebrity and prove that he could rise above the awful hand Shido had dealt him by earning the love of the general public, as well as his need to shoot his father in the head. Every aspect of his life had been tied to Shido. There was no way to separate the person he had been ever since his mother had died from the monster who had made him that way. </p>
<p>If he was alive and not a cognition, then would he be able to find something that he genuinely enjoyed for itself? He used to cycle, and did bouldering in his free time, but that was mainly to maintain a physique that would let him traverse Palaces alone with no issues. Would he be able to do something as simple as paint in his free time, instead of practising smiles and speeches in front of mirrors and murdering people in the Metaverse? </p>
<p>Did he even have anything he wanted to do for himself? </p>
<p>“I would like to capture the essence of frustration in your expression,” Yusuke continued, shaking Akechi from his reverie. “Next time you are irritated, I would appreciate if you would allow me to sketch you.”</p>
<p>Akechi blinked at the strange request, and raised an eyebrow at him. </p>
<p>“I’m in a constant state of frustration with this world,” Akechi pointed out, and Yusuke nodded. </p>
<p>“Then the next time I have my sketchbook I shall sketch you. I feel that charcoal could work quite well.”</p>
<p>Kitagawa might have been incredibly strange, but he had to admit there was something incredibly flattering at the thought of becoming an artist’s muse, even if it was just for some high schooler’s sketch. So really, although he shouldn’t encourage further unnecessary contact with him, what would be the harm in agreeing?</p>
<p>“Fine,” he said, and Yusuke’s entire face brightened. He began discussing potential techniques and tools to complete his piece, varying from charcoal to watercolours and acrylics, as if Akechi gave a damn about any of it. But he didn’t walk away, and found himself not minding finishing his belated breakfast in Kitagawa’s presence – in fact, he even pressed for more information on specific techniques Yusuke mentioned that he vaguely remembered reading about. </p>
<p>And as they spoke, he didn’t think about Shido at all. </p>
<p>*</p>
<p>Bumping into Kitagawa in the underground walkway had taken up more time than Akechi had expected, and so, despite receiving no summons to the hideout from Ren, he put off visiting the Diet Building for another day. As much as he hated to admit it, seeing Shido had been a much more tiring experience that he had expected, and once the residual anger had drained from him he found himself not particularly eager to do anything but crawl into his bed and stare at a wall until he could go into the Metaverse and kill something. That would be a complete waste of time, but then again maybe it would upset the oh-so-benevolent Maruki if he spent the precious time he had left in this ‘perfect’ world doing nothing to enrich his life or the lives of others. </p>
<p>He was stepping out of the station and about to head back to his apartment when his phone buzzed in his pocket, and as he reached for it a conditioned tightness coiled in his chest, something instinctual whispering that it was Shido, demanding more breakdowns. It took him a moment to remind himself that while he could contact Shido in prison whenever he wanted Shido couldn’t do the same to him, and to accept that seeing the man again, even declawed as he was, had been a terrible idea. He took in a breath and glanced down at his phone, a little surprised that while of course it wasn’t Shido, it was Ren. Inviting him to the jazz club as if it was perfectly normal for them to spend time together, just like he had with the darts. </p>
<p>Akechi wanted to blow him off, remind him they weren’t friends and that he should have better self-preservation instincts than this, but honestly the jazz club sounded pretty nice right now. It wasn’t one of the days where the singer would be present, he was sure, but the music alone would probably be able to cut through the uncomfortable lethargy that had overcome him. He could put up with the awkward company for that, especially if Ren was paying for them both. </p>
<p>He responded quickly, and soon enough found his rival standing outside Jazz Jin with his hands shoved into his pockets and without a cat’s head poking out of his bag. Inexplicably, his face lit up at the sight of Akechi walking toward him, and he gave him an awkward little wave. Akechi rolled his eyes and stopped in front of him, refusing to smile back. </p>
<p>“Not that I don’t appreciate the venue, but <i>why</i> do you insist on spending time with me?” he asked, folding his arms across his chest and raising an eyebrow. “I’m sure that some of your actual friends would appreciate your time much more.”</p>
<p>“You’re my friend too,” Ren stated like it was a fact, and Akechi scoffed. </p>
<p>“I shot you.”</p>
<p>“Technically you didn’t.” He glanced over his shoulder, toward the stairs leading into the club, and jerked a thumb in its direction. “We should go inside, it’s cold out here.”</p>
<p>Akechi rolled his eyes again but nevertheless followed him in, allowing himself to be led to a table that was a little too close to the centre of the room for his liking. As he’d expected the singer was nowhere to be found, but as Ren ordered the day’s specials for them and the band began to play he began to relax regardless. There was soothing about this place that just made all of his worries feel a little more distant.</p>
<p>But then he caught Ren watching him over the rim of his glass, his eyes strangely intense, and despite the fact that it was just Ren, he still felt like he was being analysed. Like Ren was searching for something particular in his face. And though he had grown used to such scrutiny in front of TV cameras and interviewers, he wasn’t used to it coming from Ren, and the irritation the music had begun to chase came rushing back.</p>
<p>“Did you invite me here just to stare at me?” he snapped a little more sharply than he would have liked, and Ren blinked at him like he hadn’t even noticed what he was doing. </p>
<p>“You do have a pretty face,” Ren replied easily, and Akechi scowled. As if he hadn’t heard that from practically every interviewer in Tokyo. Ren’s smile began to slip at the negative reaction, and he put down his glass. “I… I was just thinking.”</p>
<p>Akechi waited for him to continue, but he seemed content to leave it at that, staring into space just to the left of Akechi’s shoulder. Akechi found himself quickly losing patience – if he was just going to invite him here and not talk, then he could have had a table to himself and actually had a relaxing evening.</p>
<p>“I’m not a mind reader, Ren,” he pointed out, and Ren almost jumped.</p>
<p>“I know. Sorry.” He hesitated. “I’m just… I’m glad that you’re alive.”</p>
<p>Akechi froze. Well, mentioning that he’d been spending the last day or so trying to discern if he <i>was</i> alive or not wasn’t going to be a good way to continue this conversation. He averted his eyes, taking a sip of his drink, but he still felt Ren staring at him. </p>
<p>“I suppose I do provide some much needed firepower to your team,” he said, forcing his tone to something light. “The cat might be an effective healer, but I don’t think I’ve seen him down a single Shadow.”</p>
<p>Ren frowned again. “I didn’t mean it like that. I mean, yeah, you’re a really big help in the Palace and Mementos, but I’d be happy if you weren’t on our team now too.” He gave an awkward, helpless shrug. “I’m just happy that you’re alive.”</p>
<p>“You don’t even know me,” Akechi muttered into his glass, because apparently he couldn’t bear to have the person he’d shot talking about him like that, like he was something that should be valued.</p>
<p>His conversations with Ren in the past had been the only thing he had to look forward to on some days, but not because he’d deluded himself into thinking that they were friends. Every conversation with him had been a battle of wits, of dancing around the truth that he knew but couldn’t say. Every interaction was one where he held all the cards – even when he let slip things about his past that Ren had no right to know he could play that off as a calculated manoeuvre, letting him think that he had learned something important while what <i>really</i> mattered was dangled just out of his reach. Akechi was an angler, while Ren was the fish helplessly snared on his lure – he’d give him a little slack, let him think he had a chance of wiggling free, when really he was tugging him closer to his doom. If he let slip a little too much, then who cared? At the end of the day he was still caught. </p>
<p>But Ren had only seen fragments of the real him over the last few months, and had only seen the truth in the engine room, when Akechi had been so furious and determined to not let his victory over Shido slip through his fingers that he couldn’t keep hold of his masks. He may have seen his real personality over the last few weeks, but he hadn’t seen enough of it to be able to truly gauge if he was someone worth caring about in any capacity. </p>
<p>Ren was looking at him now with something akin to hurt in his eyes, but once he noticed Akechi looking back he glanced down, playing almost nervously with a lock of hair that had fallen into his eyes. </p>
<p>“Maybe not,” he conceded. He looked up again, and there was a warm intensity to his gaze. “But I’d like to.”</p>
<p>There was no hint of a lie in his face, or a suggestion of ulterior motives, but Akechi still found it hard to believe. No one wanted the real him, he’d learned that long ago. That was why he had buried it beneath so many masks and facades, and so carefully crafted the Detective Prince. He’d laid the groundwork for his mask in the last few foster homes, training himself to smile when he wanted to make someone bleed, to laugh and submit like he wasn’t something deadly, and he’d turned it into an art. People wanted the pretty smiling face, the thing they could look at and covet and admire but never respect. As soon as they saw the rage that kept him alive, they wanted nothing to with him. </p>
<p>“You’re ridiculous,” Akechi said with a shake of his head, because if he told him he was a liar to his face Ren would just deny it. </p>
<p>“So I’m told.” He hesitated. “I don’t mean this in a bad way, but… was any of what you told me about yourself real? Do I actually know anything genuine about you?”</p>
<p>Akechi ran a gloved finger around the rim of the glass, grimacing. It was a fair question, really, but it still stung a little to think that he had told Ren things about himself that no one else knew and he didn’t even believe him. </p>
<p>“Everything I told you about my mother and the foster homes is true,” he stated. “If I wanted to fabricate some sob story to make myself more sympathetic to you, then I wouldn’t have made myself some disgusting degenerate’s bastard child. I’d have picked something much more tasteful.”</p>
<p>“Right. Sorry.”</p>
<p>Akechi shrugged, and continued without looking at him. “I genuinely liked spending time in Leblanc, although part of that was the thrill of earning Sakura’s trust when he had no idea who I truly was or what I had done. He does make exceptionally good coffee though.”</p>
<p>“And me?” </p>
<p>There was something almost vulnerable in Ren’s voice, and when Akechi glanced up at him he saw an openness in his gaze that was foreign to him. When he didn’t respond right away, Ren clarified. “Did you genuinely enjoy spending time with me? In a way that wasn’t just… enjoying having the upper hand?”</p>
<p>Akechi took a moment to think about it. “A lot of it was me enjoying tricking you,” he admitted. “But… yes. Despite myself, I did enjoy spending time with you.”</p>
<p>Ren nodded, his lips twitching slightly into the ghost of a smile that faded quickly enough. “So,” he said, shifting a little in his seat, “if you liked spending time with me… did you regret shooting me?”</p>
<p>Akechi barked out a laugh at the abrupt change in topic, but really he should have expected it. Of course that would come up sooner or later. </p>
<p>“At the time? No, of course not. It was the final step toward getting everything I’ve ever wanted. Killing you meant that Shido was moments from victory, and that I was moments from casting him down and making him suffer for everything he’d done. I was riding a high for days.”</p>
<p>Ren didn’t look like he believed him, but that hardly mattered. It was the truth, or at least part of it. But when Ren didn’t break eye contact as he searched for the lie, Akechi found himself sighing. He had been so happy that his goal was in sight – it was regrettable that he’d lost his rival so quickly, but he’d <i>won.</i> He’d proven his superiority unequivocally – he, the unloved, unwanted bastard, had triumphed over the nobody who seemingly everyone adored for his genuine self and not the hollow mask he presented to the world. Akechi was the victor, his righteousness and his justice had prevailed, and his victory over Shido would soon follow… but he’d sacrificed everything for it. The game was over. He could no longer go to the cafe that had become his sanctuary, and the one person he wanted to gloat about his victory to, the one person who would understand the skill and planning that had led up to this precise moment, was lying dead in a morgue because of him. He had fought so hard to claim his victory, but now that Ren was dead it felt hollow. </p>
<p>He’d been willing to give up everything for his revenge. He’d already given up so much, but somehow, sacrificing Ren to Shido made it all feel somewhat meaningless, made the interviews where he told the tale of his victory over the Thieves over and over taste like ash in his mouth. He’d been delighted when he pulled the trigger, but once the gunshot had time to ring in his ears, once the sight of Ren’s bloody head hitting the table had time to burn itself on the back of his eyelids, it all felt like a mistake. The biggest mistake he’d ever made, and one he could never undo.</p>
<p>“...It didn’t last,” he said simply.</p>
<p>Ren was silent for a long moment, and Akechi partially expected him to just get up and leave after that. It couldn’t be particularly easy to hear that your killer had enjoyed killing you. Instead, a hesitant smile began to tug at the corners of Ren’s lips.</p>
<p>“Guess that’s the best I could hope for,” he said far too lightly for someone discussing their own attempted murder. “Maybe I should have taken you up on your offer, and saved us both the stress.”</p>
<p>Akechi’s brow furrowed, and he was about to ask Ren what he meant when the memory abruptly came back to him. That moment in Kichijoji when he had asked Ren to abandon the Thieves and join him instead. His lips twisted and he glanced away.</p>
<p>“That offer… was a moment of weakness,” he forced himself to say. “One that never should have happened.” He moved to take a sip of his drink. “It probably wouldn’t have worked out anyway.”</p>
<p>Ren’s eyes grew wide behind his glasses. “Hold on. You were serious?”</p>
<p>Akechi paused, raising an eyebrow. </p>
<p>“You thought I wasn’t?”</p>
<p>Ren looked genuinely startled, staring at him in disbelief, and Akechi rolled his eyes before placing his glass back down on the table a little too heavily. “Think about it from my perspective. If we joined forces, then I could destroy Shido so much more easily, and wouldn’t need to waste time dealing with you or your little team. If I could get you to leave them and their playground morality behind and work alongside me instead, then I’d be unstoppable – but even if they didn’t, your team wouldn’t be able to defeat us on their own, and Shido wouldn’t know what had hit him. He’d think that he was on top of the world, and then we’d both bring him crashing down.”</p>
<p>“By killing him,” Ren finished, tone abruptly more sombre, and Akechi scowled. </p>
<p>“It would have been more satisfying than stealing his heart, and removes the possibility of him implicating me in a confession. But I should have known before I suggested it that you’re too good and moral to want to kill someone who had wronged you.”</p>
<p>Ren was quiet for a moment, so Akechi took the time to sip his drink and roll his shoulders, letting the music wash over him.</p>
<p>“You’re right. I wouldn’t have gone that far.” He shifted a little in the seat, glancing around the club rather than looking at Akechi. “But… I should have asked you the opposite. I should have asked you to leave Shido and join us properly.”</p>
<p>“I would never have agreed.” Or maybe he would have, but only to get closer to them and get a better angle when he stabbed them in the back. </p>
<p>“In a-” Ren cut himself off, grimacing. “Bad phrasing, but in a perfect world, knowing what you do now, would you have joined us?”</p>
<p>Akechi did want to hit him for phrasing it like that, but he thought about it. He couldn’t truly imagine joining the Thieves back then, with the plan to kill Joker taking up so much of his thoughts. If it had been the two of them against the world, no Thieves to convince and act harmless for, then maybe it would have worked, but the thought of having a team supporting him was some strange, slippery thing he couldn’t quite grasp. Even knowing now how it felt to have a team at his back, he couldn’t imagine all of the Thieves unanimously agreeing to change their ways and kill Shido with him, nor could he imagine himself deciding to abandon his revenge when it was so close and he’d already done so much. He’d seen for himself how unsatisfying a change of heart was when faced with the alternative, and he never would have chosen that over Shido’s death if he’d had a choice.</p>
<p>“I didn’t join you in December, once the truth was right in front of me,” he reminded him. “I haven’t truly joined you now. I can’t imagine that I would have months ago, even if I’d known exactly what Shido had thought of me.”</p>
<p>Something flickered through Ren’s eyes.</p>
<p>“You’re working with us to change someone’s heart – for real this time,” he pointed out. “You’re a real Phantom Thief now, Crow.”</p>
<p>Akechi shrugged, deciding that it was probably pointless to explain that he’d joined through necessity rather than through sharing their ideals, and would quite happily shoot Maruki over changing his heart. Ren frowned when he didn’t respond, and tugged at a stray lock of hair again.</p>
<p>“...Are you sure you wouldn’t have joined us back in Shido’s Palace, if that cognition hadn’t appeared?” Ren asked quietly, and Akechi stared at the pale blue of his drink. </p>
<p>There was a dozen ways that the confrontation could have gone. Such as if the cognition had decided to just shoot him as soon as it appeared, sparing him further humiliation, or had shot Joker instead. <i>That</i> certainly would have thrown a spanner into the works. But if the cognition hadn’t appeared…</p>
<p>Maybe Joker would have approached him instead. Maybe he would have strode over to his fallen foe, confident in his victory, or maybe he would have stepped over tentatively, like he was approaching a cornered animal. Maybe Joker would have pulled out his own gun, ignoring his teammates shock and horror, and shot him in the head – repaying his own attempted murder in kind. Or maybe Akechi would have waited until Joker was close enough for his teammates to not be able to react in time and shot him himself. Maybe he’d stab his sabre into Joker’s chest, or his back – maybe Joker would retaliate with his knife and they’d die in each other’s arms, grinning bloody smiles, finally equal in death. </p>
<p>Or maybe Joker would have offered him his hand, offered him a team and hope that he didn’t deserve but was given to him anyway. Maybe Akechi would have denied him even then, spitting at his feet and continuing to fight until he had to be put down permanently. Maybe Joker would have refused to fight him again, even knowing that he’d win. </p>
<p>But maybe their awful power of friendship speeches and their admissions that he was better and smarter than them had actually begun to creep under his skin. Maybe, if only for a moment, he had allowed himself to think that there could be another way, that he wasn’t too far gone. Maybe he’d let himself think that he could actually become part of the team, despite everything he’d done – that he could be accepted even when he wasn’t pretending to be something soft, pretending that he wasn’t just fuelled by rage.</p>
<p>Maybe he would have taken his hand, and stood at his side. </p>
<p>“...It doesn’t matter,” Akechi muttered, banishing the thoughts. “There’s no point of dwelling on what could have been.”</p>
<p>Ren leaned back in his chair, and Akechi noticed for the first time that Ren had started leaning towards him while they had spoken. </p>
<p>“I suppose you’re right,” Ren said, reaching for his own drink, but stopping the motion halfway. “Akechi.”</p>
<p>“Hm?”</p>
<p>“I want you to know, that if you had wanted to join us for real back then, with no more plans to betray us later… then we would have said yes. We would have let you join us, and we would have helped you.”</p>
<p>That hardly mattered now that things had played out how they had… but it was still nice to hear. </p>
<p>“I believe you,” he said, and hoped that was enough. </p>
<p>Ren looked relieved, and he gave him a tentative smile. Akechi rolled his eyes again, not thinking about the warm, almost fond feeling in his chest at that smile. Ren was ridiculous and far too forgiving, but at least he was consistent… and had apparently decided that he’d had enough of interrogating him over what-if scenarios. Honestly, what was it about this place that made the Phantom Thieves want to corner him and make him spill his guts? If the next time he was here Niijima or, god forbid, <i>Sakamoto</i> was lurking around, ready to dissect his motives or try to sympathise with him, then he might actually make a scene. He wondered if he had enough sway to convince Muhen to create a list of allowed patrons, and ban every Thief aside from Ren. Somehow he doubted that would work, though. </p>
<p>“I like spending time with you too, for the record,” Ren added just as Akechi thought he might let him appreciate the music in peace, and it took him a moment to realise that he was belatedly reciprocating his own admission from earlier. </p>
<p>“Of course you do,” Akechi replied without missing a beat. “I’m delightful.”</p>
<p>Ren let out a sharp, startled laugh that he half raised a hand to smother, and Akechi found himself smirking. </p>
<p>“Good thing we’re friends then. We can be delightful together.”</p>
<p>“I’d be more tempted to call you insufferable,” Akechi said, pointedly ignoring the ‘friends’ comment. That still seemed too reductive, considering everything their relationship entailed.</p>
<p>“We can be delightfully insufferable.” </p>
<p>“Those words are antonyms, Amamiya.”</p>
<p>“See, you’re good at it already!”</p>
<p>Akechi tried to glare at him, but he couldn’t quite smother the smirk in time, which led to a dazzling, irritating smile from Ren. Delightfully insufferable indeed. </p>
<p>“Just drink your damn cocktail so I can leave,” he grumbled without quite enough heat, and Ren’s smile widened. </p>
<p>“Such a gentleman, waiting for me to finish.”</p>
<p>“If I just leave you here after we came in together, then I’d just be drawing more attention to myself,” he pointed out. “I come here frequently, and if I start acting strangely then the staff may take it upon themselves to ask me about it, and I’d rather not have to waste time explaining myself. Honestly, it’s a miracle that they haven’t started interrogating me after Okumura accosted me the other day.”</p>
<p>“Wait, <i>Haru</i> met you here?”</p>
<p>So Akechi explained how Haru had just appeared in his club – how she had mentioned who showed it to her in the first place, which Ren had looked rightfully apologetic over – and while he didn’t see the need to mention exactly what the two of them had spoken about, that led to discussions of who else Akechi had seen here, and if he knew any other regulars. The conversation stayed on safe topics, no more mentions of attempted murders or miraculous escapes, and Akechi somehow found himself talking with Ren late into the evening, just like he had in the months before that fateful day in November. </p>
<p>The conversation was different now that most secrets were now out in the open, but Akechi didn’t feel particularly wrong-footed by no longer being the one who held all of the cards. It was actually almost nice, to speak to Ren like he was his equal and have that be closer to the truth than a lie, to not have to second guess every word that passed his lips to make sure that he was still keeping his Detective Prince mask in place. </p>
<p>In fact, this was probably the nicest evening he’d had in a long time.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Akechi looks into the Diet Building CCTV and gets more than he bargained for.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The day after meeting Ren in Jazz Jin there was still no summons to the Palace, so Akechi took himself off to the Diet Building. He’d received a curt email in response to the one he had sent a few days prior, letting him know that while he was technically allowed to review the footage they weren’t happy about it, but that was all the permission he needed. So he found himself standing outside, staring up at the building and trying his best to ignore the gaggle of nearby tourists who had decided that they needed to take a selfie outside the gates.</p>
<p>It was strange to see it in reality, when his most recent memory of the place had been of it at the centre of the giant ship, standing proud against the dim light of a dying world. He hadn’t had much time to look at the cognitive version of it before he’d stormed inside, determined to stop the Thieves before they had the chance to ruin everything, but looking at it now its opulence disgusted him. This place would be packed to the brim with people like Shido, thinking themselves so much better than those outside it and ready to use the power they gained from using others to ruin every life they touched. </p>
<p>He wondered how many of Shido’s colleagues he’d bump into today, and how many of them would recognise him.</p>
<p>Akechi took in a deep breath, taking a moment to find his detective mask and put it on properly (he’d thought he’d be able to drop the act entirely after Shido’s downfall; how naive he had been) before he walked over to the gates and the guard. He flashed his badge and a smile, stating his business, and while the guard gave no sign of recognising him he also seemed to have better things to do than to grill him about his request. </p>
<p>He was led through the extravagant interior, but he only caught a glimpse of the grandeur before he was being directed down much narrower corridors and toward what was presumably the security room. His guide pushed open the door, revealing a room filled with screens and a balding man in a guard’s uniform who turned to face his visitors. A bashful smile was already in position, but it froze on his lips when he realised that he knew this man. And, judging by the slight widening of his eyes, he knew him too. </p>
<p>“Akechi-kun?” the balding guard said, disbelief clear in his face. “What a surprise!”</p>
<p>“Ah, hello,” Akechi said, mind racing. The guard knew his name, remembered him, when everything he had seen so far suggested that the general public didn’t know him anymore. He recognised him in turn, but only as someone hanging on the edges of Shido’s orbit, some nobody tagalong who’d do anything that Shido asked. He didn’t know a name, but if he was one of the few that Maruki hadn’t gotten to yet… then this could be bad. “I hope I’m not intruding – I need to review the CCTV footage of the exterior of the building from back in December. It’s for a police matter.”</p>
<p>“Of course,” the guard said, moving to stand from his chair, and he looked over Akechi’s shoulder and smiled at his colleague. “We’ll be fine in here, Iwasaki-san.”</p>
<p>Unease skittered across Akechi’s skin at the thought of being left alone with one of Shido’s goons, but it wasn’t worth making a scene over. Besides, there was nothing that this man could do to him here.</p>
<p>“Thank you for your help,” he said to his guide, who returned his smile before he stepped out of the room, closing the door behind him. </p>
<p>Akechi kept the smile on his face and moved toward the one chair in the room. </p>
<p>“My apologies again for the intrusion,” he said, keeping his voice in the higher, sweeter cadence of the Detective Prince. “Hopefully I can find what I need quickly and get out of your hair.”</p>
<p>“Oh no, take your time.” He didn’t move away from the chair even as Akechi sat down, instead stepping closer and placing his hand on its back, practically breathing down his neck. “What exactly are you looking for?”</p>
<p>“I’m afraid that’s confidential,” he said lightly, quickly searching through the files for the day when he had chased the Thieves into the Palace. Luckily he’d brought a USB with him to move the files onto so that he could search through everything in the comfort of his own apartment, rather than wasting hours going through them in here. He just had to find them first. </p>
<p>“Of course,” the guard said amicably, and Akechi heard the squeak of leather from where his hand tightened on the back of the chair. “But still, it’s very strange to see you here of all places, Akechi-kun.”</p>
<p>“It is unusual for police business to bring me directly to the Diet, it’s true.” He could play this game all day, keep deflecting until the guard got bored, but he had the uncomfortable feeling that this was leading somewhere he wouldn’t like. </p>
<p>“Not just in the Diet,” he added. “It’s weird, I used to see you on TV all the time but over the last few weeks it’s like you just disappeared completely. Even my daughter – she was one of your biggest fans, had posters and everything – just stopped talking about you all of a sudden. When I asked her why she didn’t like the Detective Prince anymore, she looked at me right in the eye and said ‘What Detective Prince?’” He laughed, and Akechi forced himself to keep his smile up. </p>
<p>“That is quite strange.”</p>
<p>“It is, isn’t it? It was especially strange considering how the media was making so much of a fuss of your disappearance back then. When the paparazzi realised you weren’t going back to your apartment, there were a bunch of conspiracy theories saying that you’d been abducted, and after that calling card fiasco some of your more avid supporters were even saying that maybe you’d been killed by the Phantom Thieves!”</p>
<p>“Well, clearly that wasn’t the case,” Akechi said, forcing himself not to grit his teeth. He was not about to discuss conspiracy theories about his death with a member of the actual conspiracy. </p>
<p>“No, but it is really weird.” He leaned a little closer, and Akechi pointedly did not tense. “Especially considering that you disappeared right before Shido-san’s calling card appeared on every screen in Shibuya. That’s a little suspicious, don’t you think?”</p>
<p>“I was otherwise occupied,” Akechi said, but his charming mask was slipping. </p>
<p>“Occupied,” the guard repeated. He sounded amused. “You were certainly occupied for a while then, Akechi-kun.”</p>
<p>He didn’t answer, focusing solely on the screen and breathing a tiny sigh of relief when he found the day he’d confronted the Thieves and the specific camera pointing at where he had entered the Palace, and opened the file just to make sure. He sped through the earlier hours of the day until he caught sight of his own back striding toward the Diet Building, entire body tight with barely contained rage, and he closed the window before selecting all of the files after that time and moving them over to his USB. At least the calling card had been sent out soon after his confrontation with the Thieves, and he wouldn’t have to trawl through week’s worth of footage. (Unless he wasn’t kicked out of the Metaverse when the Palace fell, which would be… problematic.)</p>
<p>He caught himself before he leaned back in the seat, unwilling to get any closer to the guard than was necessary, and watched the progress bar move toward completion at a crawl. </p>
<p>“Well, at least we know you’re still kicking now,” the guard said cheerfully. “I’ll be sure to let Minamimoto-san know.”</p>
<p>“Minamimoto-san?” Akechi repeated. The name was unfamiliar. </p>
<p>“Hm? Oh, have you two not met? He’s Shido-san’s successor.”</p>
<p>Akechi froze.</p>
<p>“We all worked so hard to get Shido to where he needed to be, we couldn’t just let it all go to waste,” the guard continued, a smile in his voice. “He may have been arrested, and his confession may have damaged our network, but we’re still here, and ready to help a leader who shares his ideals and ambition. Minamimoto-san was the best candidate to take over what Shido had left behind.”</p>
<p>Akechi’s hands tightened into fists, but he smoothed them out as quickly as he could, trying to hide all traces of his trepidation. He’d never thought about who would appear to fill the power vacuum that Shido would leave behind after his fall, but he supposed it made sense for the conspiracy that he had spent so long building up to not immediately die with his change of heart. Of course they couldn’t all go down with the ship, and of course they’d want to make use of Shido’s most valuable asset. </p>
<p>So much for Maruki’s ‘perfect’ reality – he couldn’t even get rid of the rot, or even cover it up properly. </p>
<p>“You’re right, we haven’t met,” Akechi said, putting his mask back into place. “I’ll have to arrange a meeting, make sure that our interests continue to align. Could you remind me of his full name?”</p>
<p>He kept his eyes wide and his expression open, the picture of soft-spoken innocence that all of Shido’s idiots assumed was more genuine than not, and tried not to listen to the part of him screaming that asking for a full name was far too obvious. He could just search for the replacement’s name on any web browser and probably get a hit – if this guy was smart enough to had picked up on both him and the Phantom Thieves needing a full name to do their work-</p>
<p>But then again, it was unlikely that Shido had told some random security guard about his trump card. Most likely, they all just thought Akechi was one of Shido’s many footholds into the police – a particularly useful one, with his media connections and the general public’s affection, but nothing more than that. </p>
<p>But he couldn’t afford to risk himself if he was wrong. He’d only just broken free of Shido, he refused to become a slave for his replacement. </p>
<p>“Takeshi Minamimoto,” the guard replied with barely any hesitation, and Akechi wondered if this guard was overly trusting or just stupid. “I’m certain that he could find a place for you, Akechi-kun, so long as you don’t decide to repeat your vanishing act.”</p>
<p>He bit back everything he wanted to say about his ‘vanishing act’, just as the progress bar finally filled with green and disappeared from the screen. He pulled out his USB with a little more force than was necessary, and tucked it away into his coat. </p>
<p>“I believe that should be all the information I need,” he said, pushing himself up and out of the chair and fixing the guard with a smile. His eyes darted down to catch the name printed on his security lanyard, and he made a mental note of it. He probably would be unable to get rid of him before he mentioned his name to Shido’s replacement, but he could try “Thank you for your assistance, Takahashi-san.”</p>
<p>“You’re welcome,” the guard said, smiling in a pathetic way that suggested he actually thought that Akechi was being genuine. “Don’t be a stranger, Akechi-kun.”</p>
<p>Akechi smiled primly and wondered how this man’s Shadow would beg for its life. </p>
<p>“Don’t worry,” he said cheerfully. “I think we’ll see each other again sooner than you’d think.”</p>
<p>*</p>
<p>Joker still wasn’t summoning them back to Maruki’s Palace, but for once Akechi wasn’t frustrated by his inaction. Once he was back in Shibuya station he pulled out his phone and entered Mementos, barely stopping to make sure there were no strangers hovering close enough to be dragged into the Metaverse with him. The familiar, comforting weight of his mask and outfit covered him, and as he breathed in the sharp, heavy scent of Mementos he pushed the charming persona of Robin Hood that he’d worn all day back and let Loki’s fury embrace him. </p>
<p>Spending time with the Thieves had made him complacent – he’d begun to start believing in their way of doing things, in their half-hearted attempt at justice. He’d do most of the work when it came to Shadows, but when it came down to the final moments, the moment when the Thieves became the arbiter of their pathetic lives, he’d contented himself with sitting back and letting Joker make the call. He’d gotten used to their reluctant acceptance of him, and had almost forgotten how he’d spent his time in the Metaverse before he’d joined their team. </p>
<p>Teamwork had its benefits, he had to admit. But he was hardly going to waste time explaining why these men needed stopping and waiting for a unanimous decision when he was perfectly capable of solving his own problems, and solving them permanently. </p>
<p>He held out his phone, and searched for the two names that he’d learned in the Diet Building. They were both hits, of course, but thankfully neither of them appeared to have Palaces. He didn’t particularly want to waste time trawling through a Palace on his own when they still had Maruki’s to deal with, or try to guess the keywords of a man he’d never met. </p>
<p>According to his phone’s navigation Minamimoto appeared to be quite deep within Mementos, lurking somewhere in Kaitul, so Akechi tucked his phone away and began the long descent. </p>
<p>It had been a hell of a lot more convenient with Mona acting as a vehicle, just being able to sit back and not worry about tripping over the train tracks or sneaking around corners to avoid stronger Shadows, but travelling by himself once again felt almost nostalgic. The weaker Shadows fled at the sight of him, terrified by his power, but he could see others cloaked in red looking for a fight that he was all too happy to give them. By the time he descended yet another escalator, once again thankful that the cognitive world didn’t allow him to be physically exhausted from walking so much, he was drunk off of destroying Shadows and ready to decimate whoever was stupid enough to become Shido’s successor. </p>
<p>The atmosphere in Kaitul was different to the floors above, the air tasting sharper somehow, and as Akechi made his way toward where he sensed his target to be lurking he noticed subtle changes in the décor of Mementos that had nothing to do with Maruki’s tendrils. There were wanted posters plastered across the walls, the individuals depicted within indistinct blurs, and what looked to be upturned barrels and coils of rope scattered across the floor that he almost tripped over. Transient images of wooden beams and walls lined with bottles of old spirits flickered into existence before the dark walls and ceiling of Mementos replaced them again, and as he caught sight of a Shadow milling around he spotted the ridiculous cowboy hat perched on its head. </p>
<p>He’d stumbled into the beginnings of a Palace, it seemed – not quite strong enough to have branched off, but definitely getting there. He supposed it made sense; Shido’s replacement hadn’t had enough time to truly realise how much power he was stepping into, but he must have been corrupt to become Shido’s replacement in the first place. </p>
<p>He stepped easily through the swirling vortex of black and red that led toward the Shadow causing this corruption, and almost walked straight into the swinging doors of an American Wild West saloon. The decorations were more vivid here, and behind the doors he could make out the head of what looked like a deer hanging from a wall, as well as an unoccupied bar. Akechi took a moment to just accept that the Metaverse was always ridiculous before pushing the doors open and striding straight inside. </p>
<p>The Shadow of Minamimoto that was waiting for him looked just as ridiculous as his surroundings; a scrawny Japanese politician in a hat and bandanna, a cowskin vest fixed over a pressed shirt, and he pointed an old pistol at Akechi as he entered. </p>
<p>“Hold, stranger!” he called out as Akechi drew his own gun. “I’ve not seen you around these parts – are you some sort of outlaw?”</p>
<p>Akechi fired almost before he finished talking, in no mood to waste time on his delusions, and the Shadow’s golden eyes flashed as the bullet soared through his side. </p>
<p>“You’ll regret crossing me, outlaw,” he sneered, “this town ain’t big enough for the two of us!”</p>
<p>“Oh, shut up,” he growled as the Shadow exploded, transforming into an enormous creature that didn’t look like anything he recognised, even when taking into account some of the monstrous Personas that Joker pulled out of nowhere. It still was keeping with the cowboy aesthetic, but beneath the hat was a painted face, and the vest had transformed into white and black armour that spread across its arms. A barbed lasso was coiled at his hip, and the old pistol had transformed into a machine gun that he was somehow wielding one-handed. It grinned at him, and Akechi weighed his chances. </p>
<p>He had a lot of healing items, and had slipped one of the coffees flasks from Joker’s bag the last time they’d been in a safe room together, but this wasn’t a Shadow that he knew the weaknesses of. It was an unknown entity, so he’d have to be careful. His sleuthing instinct told him that light skills wouldn’t work against it, but he was hardly planning on bringing out Robin Hood so that didn’t matter.</p>
<p>He cast Debilitate before it could move, but in retaliation it aimed the machine gun straight at him and fired. He dodged out of the way just in time, ordering Loki to cast an Eigaon, but as soon as the attack connected it reflected back at him. Minamimoto’s Shadow shot at him before he could respond to the Curse magic surrounding him, and as the cognitive bullets ripped into his torso, horribly familiar and a hell of a lot more painful than he’d expected, he almost lost his footing and was downed. He caught himself at the last second, and knew that he’d need to heal himself before he could land a Laevateinn, but Panther or Queen could do that on their turn. He threw out a Megidolaon, only remembering once Loki was dealing the damage that Panther and Queen weren’t here to heal him. He’d have to rely on himself. </p>
<p>“I know who you are,” the Shadow crooned, its voice a discordant screech as he scrambled for a healing item. “They told me about you – the assassin in the black mask. Why have you turned on your master? You were his, so you’re supposed to be mine!”</p>
<p>“I don’t belong to anyone!” he snarled, using an antibiotic gel while it was busy talking. He dodged out of the way of the barbed wire lasso, and almost missed the Shadow’s laughter. </p>
<p>“They told me I could use this world to make reality whatever I wanted it to be,” it said, its voice filled with glee. “Every tool was on the table – psychotic breakdowns, mental shutdowns, scandals, even murder! Shido was sloppy, but I could make a real difference! I can make the world whatever I want it to be, crush all the outlaws and save the day!”</p>
<p>“You’re deluded,” Akechi sneered, and swung for him again. </p>
<p>The fight was long and gruelling, the Shadow much more powerful than the others in Mementos but not quite as strong as the Palace rulers he had taken down. Fighting alongside the Phantom Thieves had spoiled him, though – he was behaving like a sloppy amateur as he waited for teammates who were no longer there to pick up his slack and target weaknesses that he couldn’t hit. He was almost downed three times before the Shadow finally crumbled, turning back into its weaker, human form before falling to its knees in front of him. </p>
<p>“I should have known better than to think I could take over from him,” Minamimoto’s Shadow lamented, staring at the floor as Akechi pointed his gun at his head. “He was the one who built the network, he did all the work – I’m just a figurehead. They’d never be trust me to have any real power...”</p>
<p>“Who exactly are ‘they’?” Akechi demanded. “Give me names and I’ll consider not killing you right here.”</p>
<p>His head snapped up, his golden eyes blown wide with fear. They always looked like that when he cornered them, like they’d finally realised that standing on top of the world meant that they were facing a very big fall.</p>
<p>“No! Don’t kill me, I’m no threat, I don’t know who you are, nothing could come back to you!”</p>
<p>“Give me the names.”</p>
<p>Minamimoto gave him the names. Name after name fell from his lips, some familiar to Akechi while others were people he’d never heard of in his life. He memorised every single one, his gun hand not wavering for a second, his eyes not leaving the Shadow’s, knowing that he was going to have a very long afternoon after this. Eventually Minamimoto ran out, and he looked up at Akechi with hope mixed with the fear. </p>
<p>“That’s everyone I know,” he said. “So please – please, let me go.”</p>
<p>Akechi pretended to think about it. </p>
<p>“No.”</p>
<p>He moved to squeeze the trigger when something collided with his arm, seizing it in a vice-like grip. It was yanked back, his shot going wide, and as his gaze snapped to see what the hell had grabbed him his blood ran cold at the sight. A long, black tendril, the same type that clung to the ceiling of Mementos after Maruki’s interference, was coiled around his arm. He felt the colour drain from his face and tried to yank his arm away, but the tendril held on tight. The pressure on his arm grew stronger, the tendril coiling from his wrist up toward his shoulder and squeezing brutally tight. His entire arm was forced into a straight line, the tendril applying so much force that he could feel his bones being crushed. He forced himself to keep his grip on the gun, but his fingers were beginning to go numb. </p>
<p><strong>“I’m sorry, Akechi-kun,”</strong> a low, remorseful voice cut through the air clear as a bell, making his breath catch in his lungs, <strong>“but I cannot allow you do this.”</strong> </p>
<p>Maruki’s voice. Maruki, here, even after they’d hacked into his lab, even after they’d thought they’d stopped his interference in Mementos. </p>
<p>
  <strong>“I had promised myself that I wouldn’t interfere, but I cannot stand by and watch you make a terrible mistake.”</strong>
</p>
<p>The gun slipped from his limp fingers, but he twisted his body and reached with his free hand, snatching it out of the air before it had the chance to hit the floor. He aimed straight for the tendrils, about to fire when that arm was seized as well and pulled away from his body with just as much force. He stood there with his arms pulled out toward the opposite walls of Mementos, trapped like Maruki had trapped Yoshizawa, and felt his heart pounding wildly in his chest. </p>
<p>Akechi couldn’t reach his mask, he couldn’t summon Loki or Robin Hood, and if this was exactly how Maruki had caught Yoshizawa then maybe his own Personas were in danger. If Maruki could steal them away, turn his own rebellion against him, he’d have nothing left. </p>
<p>He thrashed violently, but there was absolutely no give, no way for him to move, and he could barely breathe around his racing heartbeat. He’d thought that they’d weakened his influence by removing the tendrils in the Palace, he thought he’d be <i>safe</i>, but this was it. He’d finally gone too far, had stepped out of line in a way that couldn’t be ignored, had forced the hand of a man who could erase his free will, and for what? He was going to have his personality stripped from him for the sake of one final tantrum?</p>
<p><strong>“Breathe, Akechi-kun,”</strong> Maruki’s unbearably gentle voice echoed softly around him, like he wasn’t almost breaking his arms and the tendrils weren’t slowly crawling up his shoulders, towards his throat. <strong>“I don’t want to cause you any distress, I just want you to think about your actions for a moment and not do anything rash.”</strong></p>
<p>“Get these fucking things off of me!” he snarled in reply, but they didn’t loosen. </p>
<p><strong>“I’m sorry, Akechi-kun, but I can’t let you do harm to this man. I cannot allow anyone in my care to be harmed irreparably.”</strong> There was a brief pause, and Akechi tried to throw himself forward and almost dislocated his shoulders. He finally looked towards Minamimoto’s Shadow, and saw him surrounded by the same tendrils, a hollow smile distorting his face. <strong>“Akechi-kun, I would not allow you to be in any danger from this man, or from anyone else in this world. I only want you to be happy.”</strong></p>
<p>“I don’t want your bullshit happiness!” he screamed, the words feeling like they were tearing his throat apart. “I don’t want any of this! This is just for your own fucking ego!”</p>
<p>
  <strong>“I know that you don’t believe me, but I truly only have your best interests at heart. You don’t want to keep hurting people like you did before – you just don’t see another option, but other choices are available to you now. Please, just think this through. You shouldn’t make a harmful choice just to prove you’re capable of it, you should do what you know in your heart you want to do.”</strong>
</p>
<p><i>It’s what</i> you <i>want me to do,</i> he wanted to shout, but he bit it back. Denying him would just prolong this. He needed to be smart, even though every rational thought was being drowned beneath terror. Maruki could turn him into a smiling, mindless drone in an instant – he had to do something to make sure he didn’t. So he fought back the instinct to fight, to scream and claw for his freedom, and fell back onto what had been drilled into him in the orphanage, when he was still small and weak. Acquiesce, shy away, say and do whatever you had to to get them to leave you alone. </p>
<p>“I won’t kill him,” he said, the words slipping through shaking lips. “I won’t shoot.”</p>
<p>Maruki didn’t answer, and for a long, awful moment Akechi thought that he didn’t believe him, and would change his mind forcefully anyway. He forced himself to stay still, even though every nerve in his body was screaming for him to keep fighting. The tendrils holding onto him weren’t moving away, but they weren’t tightening either.</p>
<p><strong>“...I’m going to trust you on that, Akechi-kun,”</strong> Maruki said after an eternity, and if he could have moved he thought the wave of relief would have made him collapse. <strong>“But I need you to remember that you have a team alongside you now, and a support network waiting. You aren’t alone, and you don’t need to take on the world.”</strong></p>
<p>Akechi gritted his teeth, biting back everything he wanted to say, but slowly, the tendrils crushing his arms began to recede. Feeling slowly began to creep back into his hands, pins and needles stabbing into his fingertips.</p>
<p>
  <strong>“As before, I wish with all of my heart that you will recognise the good in this reality. I want you to be happy, Akechi-kun, and I’m not alone in that.”</strong>
</p>
<p>The tendrils let him go, and at the abrupt lack of pressure on his arms he stumbled forward and fell to his knees, breathing hard. </p>
<p>
  <strong>“I wish you luck, but please – remember you are not alone.”</strong>
</p>
<p>The voice faded, and the tendrils slithered away from him, disappearing deeper into Mementos. Minamimoto’s Shadow was still there, still smiling at him placidly, and once Akechi was fairly certain that Maruki was no longer watching he sucked in a deep breath and screamed in frustration. His arms were aching, his entire body was shaking, and his chest felt like it was filled with broken glass, but he was still here. He still could think, he still had his Personas, he hadn’t had his wits taken away… but he’d been completely helpless. If Maruki hadn’t believed him…</p>
<p>He reached out with a trembling hand and grabbed his gun, pulling himself to his feet. He stretched his arms, curling and uncurling his fingers along the gun’s grip, and then he heard the uncomfortable sound of a braking car combining with a cat’s yowl, and he spun on his heel. His eyes narrowed as the cat-bus transformed, and he spotted three familiar intruders standing at the other side of the remains of the cognitive saloon. </p>
<p>Joker, Mona and Violet stared at him, a hand raised to Violet’s lips in a show of shock while Joker’s mouth was set in a thin line. It took him a moment to remember the gun in his hand, and how they could see exactly what he had intended to do when he had stepped into Mementos. Akechi’s own lips curled into a snarl, and he tightened his grip on the gun in an attempt to stop his arm from shaking.</p>
<p>“What the hell are you doing here?” he demanded, voice rough, and Joker’s frown deepened. </p>
<p>“Right back at you.”</p>
<p>“I think it’s pretty damn obvious what I’m doing,” Akechi said, gesturing behind him with the gun. Shadow Minamimoto didn’t make a sound, but at the thought of his failure being on display to this group of Thieves familiar anger rose up to smother the lingering fear. “Oh, I’m sorry – was there some form I had to sign to let me go into Mementos by myself? A permission slip from the student council president? Or am I just supposed to report to you whenever I go out by myself?” </p>
<p>“Crow-senpai,” Violet said softly, and her voice was so lost and disappointed that Akechi actually felt a pang of remorse in the instant before he buried it. </p>
<p>“We don’t kill people,” Joker stated, like that was some indisputable fact, and that fed the flame of anger in Akechi’s chest. </p>
<p>“No,” he snarled. <i>“You</i> don’t kill people. And as I’ve told you ever since we woke up in this bullshit reality, I’m not one of you.” </p>
<p>He spun around again, about to fire a shot into Minamimoto’s skull just to emphasise his point, because fuck Joker’s condescension, fuck Maruki’s interference, he was fucking <i>done</i> with this day, when the Shadow glowed a pale blue, its form coalescing into an orb just in time for Mona to scoop it up in his little paws. Akechi froze, staring at the cat without comprehending until he realised that Joker had been distracting him, playing him until Mona could steal the Treasure his battle had formed. He’d let himself be tricked, again. </p>
<p>A bitter, furious smile sprung to his lips, and as he turned back toward Joker Akechi levelled his gun at his rival. Tension rippled through Joker’s frame in the instant before he forced himself to relax once more, but he didn’t raise his own gun to mirror him. Joker kept his hands tucked away in his pockets, rising above the threat like he was so much better than Akechi was, and Akechi genuinely wanted to shoot him.</p>
<p>“That man didn’t deserve to live,” he spat, and Violet flinched. </p>
<p>“We don’t decide that.” </p>
<p>“You just decided otherwise.”</p>
<p>“Guys, we shouldn’t talk about this in here,” Mona piped up, moving past Akechi to stand between him and Joker like a mediator. “That was almost a Palace ruler – this part of Mementos is going to start reorganising itself, and we don’t want to be here when it does it.”</p>
<p>Akechi glared at him, but Joker nodded and fixed Akechi with a cold stare of his own. “Let’s go.”</p>
<p>“I still have more targets,” Akechi told him with a sweet smile, and Joker’s eyes narrowed marginally. </p>
<p>“Then we’ll discuss them outside of Mementos,” he stated. </p>
<p>Akechi debated leaving them here and heading deeper into Mementos anyway, but with Mona here with them he knew he wouldn’t get very far. He could still feel himself shaking, although Joker didn’t seem to have noticed, and his entire body ached from both battling the Shadow and Maruki’s attack. He could keep himself going on anger alone, but if any one of Minamimoto’s list of names was also close to developing a Palace, or even if they just transformed into a Shadow that had an affinity for Bless skills, he’d be in trouble.</p>
<p>Joker was still staring at him, everything in his posture suggesting that he wasn’t about to let Akechi stay in Mementos without a fight, while Violet and Mona were looking between the two of them with open concern, and Akechi let out a sharp breath through his teeth. This wasn’t worth picking a fight over, not when he was already weakened. </p>
<p>“Fine. Let’s go.”</p>
<p>*</p>
<p>They ended up in the diner on Central Street, Akechi on one side of the booth with Ren and Sumire – who was wearing her hair up again now – on the other like they were some kind of good cop double act. Ren had placed the Mona bag on the table between them, and Morgana was sticking his head out and glaring at Akechi, barely remembering to hide himself when the waitress came over and took their orders. In fact, all three of them were staring at Akechi with varying shades of disappointment in their faces, but Akechi didn’t duck his head or refuse to meet their gaze. He stared straight at Ren with his arms folded across his chest, the shaking having somewhat subsided, waiting for him to make the move to break the impasse. He had half a mind to leave them all to it, leaving them there and returning to his apartment, pretending this entire miserable day hadn’t happened… but that felt a lot like retreating, and he refused to lose. </p>
<p>After what felt like an eternity, Ren finally broke the silence. </p>
<p>“Who was that man in Mementos?”</p>
<p>“Takeshi Minamimoto,” Akechi answered. There was no flicker of recognition in any of their faces, but he hadn’t expected there to be. “Shido’s successor.”</p>
<p>Sumire didn’t seem to know the significance of that, but Morgana let out a squawk and Ren’s expression grew grave. </p>
<p>“There’s another Shido?!” Morgana cried, and Akechi rolled his eyes.</p>
<p>“Not anymore. But unless something is done about his network, then they’ll just keep bringing out replacements. Different faces, but the same intentions, over and over again.”</p>
<p>“Why didn’t you come to us?” Ren asked. He still looked disappointed, but there was something like hurt in his face too, as if it was a personal failing of his that Akechi hadn’t come begging for his help with this. Maruki’s insistence that he had a team that cared about him rang in his ears, making Ren’s words and expression feel like a pitiful attempt at manipulation rather than anything actually genuine, and Akechi gritted his teeth.</p>
<p>“Oh, so you have time to go into the Metaverse now?” he said, feigning surprise but letting the expression drop after a few seconds. “We could have finished the infiltration days ago, but instead you’ve been spending the time we don’t have doing god knows what. Why would I expect to have a place in your busy schedule?”</p>
<p>To his surprise, instead of Ren looking chided by that it was Sumire who could no longer meet his gaze. </p>
<p>“That’s my fault,” she confessed, and Ren finally broke eye contact with Akechi to look at her instead. “Senpai’s been helping me out over the last few days – today he was at practice with me because I invited him, we just saw you when we were heading back to the station. It’s me who’s been holding up the infiltration-”</p>
<p>“It’s not your fault, Yoshizawa!” Morgana insisted, and Ren nodded. “We want to help you too!”</p>
<p>“If you’re worried about our progress, you could have mentioned that to me,” Ren said, addressing Akechi again. “Instead of just heading into Mementos to kill someone without consulting any of us.”</p>
<p>Sumire’s gaze snapped over to Ren sharply, and Akechi wondered if she had actually realised what would happen if you shot a Shadow in its human form. Akechi didn’t respond, and the waitress came over and placed a plate of steak in front of each of them before hurrying away, presumably sensing the tension. </p>
<p>Akechi turned to the food instead – he’d barely eaten anything before heading to the Diet Building and hadn’t grabbed anything prior to Mementos, and the Metaverse always made him hungry – but Ren and Sumire were still watching him, and he still felt vaguely nauseous after Maruki’s interference. He reached for the cutlery anyway. The steak here wasn’t amazing, but it was still pretty good, and he was going to enjoy it.</p>
<p>“Akechi, don’t just ignore us!” Morgana yowled, and Akechi scowled but didn’t look up. “You can’t still not trust us to want to help you after everything we’ve been through?”</p>
<p>Akechi didn’t answer, but out of the corner of his eye he could see Morgana bristling.</p>
<p>“Akechi-senpai, we want to be here for you,” Sumire told him, and he glanced up at her despite himself. “If we need to fight more people, then we should fight them together! You shouldn’t go and fight them alone. If anything happened to you in there because you didn’t think we could help you, then I...” She looked down at the table, biting her lip. “I don’t think I’d be able to forgive myself.”</p>
<p>Akechi blinked, brow furrowing as he watched her. Her distress looked genuine, but it didn’t make sense. </p>
<p>“My decisions have no bearing on you,” he told her, and Morgana gave a loud scoff. </p>
<p>“You really think we wouldn’t care if you got hurt, even if it was your own fault?” he said, somehow managing an incredulous expression despite having a cat’s face. “Did you think that after Shido’s Palace we never thought about you again? <i>All</i> of us felt bad about that, and Ren felt awful.”</p>
<p>His gaze cut briefly over to his rival, and he nodded in confirmation. Akechi turned back to the steak instead of thinking about that, and he heard Ren breathe a quiet sigh.</p>
<p>“Goro, just talk to us,” Ren said softly, and the sound of Akechi’s given name passing his lips shot through him like lightning. </p>
<p>It was a stupid reaction, especially considering that when they had first met he had given his full name unconditionally and it had been Ren’s own choice to not use it, but when was the last time that someone had used his actual name? ‘Akechi’ had become a product, a brand, a title like ‘Risette’ or ‘Kanamin’ had become for idols. ‘Akechi’ was a shield that he could hide behind, personal enough to pretend to be your friend while distant enough for him to feel comfortably above those around him. Hearing ‘Goro’, accidental or not, made him feel abruptly vulnerable, like his armour had been stripped away without warning. Like he could no longer pretend that all of this was happening to someone else.</p>
<p>Ren looked like he hadn’t meant to say it, his eyes widening and lips parting slightly like he didn’t know whether or not to apologise, but for some reason <i>that</i> was what tipped him over the edge. It had been a shitty day in a shitty week in a shitty month, he was still shaken from Maruki’s attack, and that was why hearing someone say his actual name made his throat and eyes sting sharply. He felt his expression twitch before he could stop it, and when he tried to suck in a calming breath it caught on a lump that had formed in his throat. </p>
<p>He raised a hand and pressed it hard against his mouth, and out of the corner of his eye he saw movement on the other side of the table. </p>
<p>“Senpai...” Sumire said softly, and he flinched when there was suddenly a presence to his right, blocking his exit. </p>
<p>Thin arms wrapped around his shoulders and a warm face pressed against his shoulder, her hair tickling the side of his face. There was a sudden weight against his other arm, and when he chanced a glance he caught sight of Morgana, having abandoned the bag to lean against his arm. Finally, long fingers reached across the table and took his gloved hand, a thumb rubbing soft circles across his knuckles, and he couldn’t bear to look across and see whatever pitying expression Ren was wearing on his face. </p>
<p>“I’m sorry,” Ren said, just as quiet as Sumire, like he was something that would break if they raised their voices above a whisper, and he hated it. He didn’t shake them off, though – he just forced himself to breathe and force back this abrupt wave of irrational emotion. This was utterly humiliating.</p>
<p>“Don’t be ridiculous,” he hissed, but it lacked heat and sounded more like a pathetic whine, and Sumire squeezed him a little tighter. Ugh. This day just kept getting worse and worse. </p>
<p>An awkward silence fell upon them, Sumire still holding him tight, Morgana still rubbing his head on his arm, Ren still tracing circles across the back of his hand in a rhythmic pattern that was strangely soothing, and he took in another breath. He’d just keep breathing and pretending that all of this wasn’t happening, and hope that once he’d regained his composure they never brought this up again.</p>
<p>“Akechi,” Ren said, still using that infuriating quiet tone, and then his thumb paused. “...Goro,” he tried, and while it still felt like sparks racing through his blood at his name, it didn’t trigger a reaction like the first time. Once Ren realised that he wasn’t going to fall apart again, he continued, a little emboldened. “In there… you said you had other targets.”</p>
<p>Akechi got the distinct impression that Ren had been about to say something else before he changed his mind, but that hardly mattered. It wasn’t exactly a safe topic – the thought of the list of names Minamimoto had given him led to the thought of being caught by Maruki, but he tried to push that down and focus on what was important. He was unlikely to be able to go back into the Metaverse and take down any of the targets alone now, so why shouldn’t he tell them? Defeating Maruki would probably remove their ability to access the Metaverse, so if they didn’t get rid of these people one way or another beforehand then they’d lose potentially their only chance to deal a decisive blow against whatever remained of Shido’s conspiracy. Once they could no longer change the hearts of Shadows they’d have to rely on the police actually doing their jobs, and after spending almost two years planted in the force Akechi couldn’t say he had much hope in that outcome. </p>
<p>He explained this to the three of them, a little relieved when his voice stopped shaking and he could express himself without sounding like he was scared. He kept his gaze locked on the hand sitting on top of his, even as his other hand moved away from his mouth and instead began to drum absently on the table beside him. It wasn’t as uncomfortable as it probably should have been to have Ren holding onto him like he had when he’d had his little episode after killing the Reaper, and even though he could still feel the other two holding onto him, that felt much more distant than Ren’s touch. With Sumire and Morgana just blurs in his periphery and Ren taking up centre stage, he could almost pretend that it was just the two of them. </p>
<p>Ren listened to every word with that same serious expression on his face, and as Morgana decided that he’d had enough of being comforting and returned to the bag and Sumire removed her arms to just watch him attentively, he didn’t withdraw his hand, and Akechi didn’t make him. Eventually Akechi grew quiet, and Ren nodded. </p>
<p>“Okay. So Maruki is still the priority, but if we have time before the heist we should try to change the hearts of Shido’s people,” Ren summarised, and Akechi nodded. “We’ll head into the Palace tomorrow, then. I think everyone’s ready now.”</p>
<p>“I’m more than ready to help!” Sumire chirped, beaming in her seat. “I feel stronger than ever!”</p>
<p>“The sooner we can end this, the better,” Akechi said. He twitched the hand still pinned under Ren’s, and Ren actually jumped like he hadn’t realised he was still holding onto him. A red flush began to creep up his face from his neck, and he snatched the hand back and immediately rubbed the back of his neck with it, like hiding the offending limb would erase all memory of it. </p>
<p>“Sorry,” he said again, and Akechi rolled his eyes as though his skin wasn’t tingling beneath his gloves with the absence. He pointedly didn’t think about how he didn’t feel anything where Sumire and Morgana had been hanging onto him, or when they’d let go.</p>
<p>Akechi finally turned back to his meal, knowing that it would probably be cold by now, and Ren cleared his throat. </p>
<p>“Akechi,” he said, and Akechi didn’t know whether or not to be pleased or disappointed that he’d apparently decided not to risk calling him by his given name again. “Next time you need help, come to us.” He paused. “It doesn’t just have to be with Metaverse stuff. We want to help you.”</p>
<p>Sumire nodded, eyes wide and earnest, and Akechi pursed his lips. Part of him wanted to take him up on that, to tell him all about his visit to Shido, about his suspicion that he’d died in the Palace and had been brought back by <i>someone</i> as their cognition, but even if he could bring himself to tell Ren, he was hardly comfortable laying everything bare in front of Morgana and Sumire. But if he said he was fine after that display then all three of them would just call him a liar, and while that would be completely true, he didn’t know how much more drama he could take today. </p>
<p>“I’ll bear that in mind,” he answered, not bothering to sell it with a smile, but Ren seemed to realise that was the best he was going to get. </p>
<p>Ren gave him another of those sweet, soft smiles that he seemed to reserve solely for him, this one telling him that he didn’t quite believe him, but that he wanted to. Akechi didn’t know what to do with that, so instead of addressing it he just looked away from him, and tried to pretend that he couldn’t still feel his phantom touch across the back of his hand. </p>
<p>*</p>
<p>That night, Akechi almost forgot to check the CCTV footage he’d spent the morning gathering. He sat down and sped through the footage, looking for some kind of sign of himself. He watched and waited. And watched and waited, until all the footage was all played through, lacking any sign of a boy who was alive or dead.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The Phantom Thieves infiltrate Maruki's Palace. Sumire and Ren check on Akechi after his solo trip to Mementos.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>As promised, the following day they went into Maruki’s Palace. The tendrils blocking their progress were gone, as expected, and the rest of the Palace opened up to them. But as they ventured further into the Palace and came across the old television sets with their tapes of Maruki’s ‘tragic’ origin, Akechi found himself waiting for a punchline that didn’t seem to have any intention of coming. </p>
<p>There had to be something hideous lurking beneath Maruki’s oh-so-kind saviour complex – his story was vague to start with, and this was his Palace after all. If he thought he was the gracious hero, sacrificing his own happiness for the sake of his lover, then that’s what it would show. The truth could be something much more cruel – maybe Maruki himself had been the one who had attacked his girlfriend and her family and had told himself that he was blameless, or he’d used his position of authority as a therapist to abuse those in his care. He had to have some secret, twisted reason to want to ‘help’ other people – whether it was through a selfish attempt at ‘redemption’ or simply to gather more power over others. He couldn’t just want to help through the goodness of his own heart. If he wasn’t distorted like that, then he wouldn’t have a Palace in the first place. </p>
<p>He passed through room after room of Maruki’s Palace in a permanent state of tension, waiting for his version of the twisted revelation that had undercut every Palace he’d been in, but it never came. That, more than the morbidly familiar research lab setting, was quickly becoming the most unnerving thing about Maruki’s Palace. </p>
<p>But, as they made their way into the mental health check centre and the horrors refused to appear, Akechi increasingly got the impression that Maruki was using his own Palace as another attempt to manipulate them all. This centre was a way to show them his reasoning, to try to convince them that he was in the right and that what he thought was best for people was superior to what they themselves thought was best. Even now that they were traipsing through his head and his heart, it was still like he was trying to reason with them, giving them options and puzzles that illuminated his thoughts rather than just trying to keep them out using brute force. </p>
<p>The more time he spent in Maruki’s Palace, the less Akechi understood. Everything that he’d come to expect from Palaces – the sneering rulers, the violent desperation, the increasingly cruel and debauched desires that twisted their view of the world – was nowhere to be found, and that just made everything more unnerving. And as they stepped out into a glade surrounded by flowers and coloured bridges of light, the towering, golden statue of Maruki’s lost love casting shadows over them all, it felt more like he was intruding on a church than a den of depravity. </p>
<p>Although this environment was a lot more pleasant than the usual Palace fare, it was hard to bask in the beauty of it when Akechi knew that all this finery was hiding the fact that Maruki wanted nothing more than to steal away their free will. Lurking beneath all of these flowers, just out of sight would be the tendrils that had manipulated Violet’s Persona and had attacked him. He had little doubt that they were lying in wait, coiled like snakes, ready to ambush them when they eventually managed to send the calling card. </p>
<p>It took them a little time to figure out the light puzzle, but soon enough they were ascending into Maruki’s version of Eden, with nowhere further to go. The route to the Treasure secured at last, so now all that was left was preparation for the final day. The day when this reality would crumble, and he’d finally be out from under Maruki’s thumb in one way or another.</p>
<p>He almost had a spring in his step when they made their way back to the entrance, until Joker stopped them all before they could return to Maruki’s terrible reality. </p>
<p>“Everyone,” Joker said, stopping with his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his trench coat. “We’re done with the Palace until we can deliver the calling card, but does anyone have plans for the thirty-first or the first?” </p>
<p>The Thieves all shared a glance, and Akechi folded his arms across his chest. What exactly was Joker planning?</p>
<p>“Uh, no?” Skull said for them, confusion clear in his voice. “Kinda hard to plan anything right now, man.”</p>
<p>“I’ll have gymnastics practice, but only in the mornings!” Violet piped up. “I should be free in the afternoons for anything!”</p>
<p>“Cool,” Joker said, flashing a smile that looked almost nervous. “Just… can everyone keep their schedules free on those days?”</p>
<p>“Is this for some sort of last minute preparation for the heist?” Queen asked, frowning. </p>
<p>“Something like that.”</p>
<p>“Oh-ho-ho, is this some kinda super secret plan?” Oracle crooned, and Joker shrugged. </p>
<p>“Maybe.”</p>
<p>“We’ll keep our schedules open,” Noir told him, and the assorted Thieves nodded in agreement. </p>
<p>“I shall prepare the calling card for when we can deliver it to Maruki,” Fox said. “So shall we depart?”</p>
<p>They slid out of the Palace and back into Maruki’s reality, and Akechi was about to turn away and head back toward his apartment when he heard swift, light footfalls rushing toward him. </p>
<p>“Akechi-senpai!”</p>
<p>It would be easy for him to keep moving and pretend that she hadn’t spoken, but he knew that the look on her face if he did that would rival a kicked puppy. Being cruel to Sumire would be easy, but it would be pointless. A pathetic waste of energy that would potentially damage the camaraderie of the Thieves, and although Akechi was many things, he liked to think he wasn’t wasteful. He slowed to a stop, but didn’t smile even as Yoshizawa beamed at him.</p>
<p>“Do you mind if I walk with you, Akechi-senpai?” she asked, eyes wide and hopeful. </p>
<p>“Is this just an attempt to check up on me after my behaviour yesterday?” Akechi asked, raising an eyebrow at her, and watched a flush climb up her face. </p>
<p>“I do want to make sure that you’re okay,” Sumire admitted, and he found her honesty, although misguided, somewhat refreshing. “But I also feel like we haven’t had much of a chance to talk lately!”</p>
<p><i>That’s because I’ve been dead for at least a month,</i> he almost said, but he couldn’t bring himself to say that aloud. He’d accepted that being a cognition seemed to make the most sense after not seeing himself emerge from Shido’s Palace, but he still hadn’t voiced that thought, even only to himself. There was a chance that he was wrong, although he knew better than to cling to it, but admitting that he was likely no longer alive somehow felt too much, like saying the words of the magic spell would cause it to happen, and he didn’t particularly want to involuntarily invoke his own death. Akechi didn’t consider himself particularly superstitious, but he didn’t really want to start being careless when he was so close to stopping Maruki. </p>
<p>“...Are you doing okay?” Sumire pressed, and Akechi pursed his lips. </p>
<p>“I’m fine.” He glanced at her sidelong, taking in her ponytail and lack of glasses, the same as the previous day but no less concerning. “...Are you?” he asked reluctantly. She started at that, and as she looked at him in confusion he raised a hand and gestured toward his own hair, miming her ponytail. Her expression cleared, and her smile returned. </p>
<p>“Oh, yes! I decided to start wearing my hair up again as a homage to Kasumi, rather than an imitation of her. It’s a reminder of how much she meant to me, as well as for me to be strong for both of our sakes, and achieve our shared dream.” She fixed him with a look that was filled with determination. “I feel stronger than ever before, and I won’t run away from myself any longer!”</p>
<p>Akechi nodded. “Good.” He glanced away from her, noting the lack of the other Thieves around them, and felt the words slipping out without a thought. “It’s quite freeing, isn’t it? To not have to pretend anymore.”</p>
<p>Sumire hesitated. “I’m not entirely sure yet,” she admitted. “Honestly, it still feels hard sometimes to know that I’m not her. That I’ll never be her. It was less pretending to be Kasumi and more like… freeing myself from being Sumire, you know?” She grimaced before turning it into a self-deprecating smile. “Ah, of course you wouldn’t know, it’s not like this is a normal experience...”</p>
<p>“I think I understand better than most.” He pushed his hands into his pockets. “The ‘Detective Prince’ began as a way for me to escape who I was, until that became its own cage.” And now, who was to say that he wasn’t in the exact same position that Sumire had been in before he and Ren had woken her up? Who was to say that he wasn’t also just imitating the dead, his perception twisted by Maruki’s insidious influence so that he couldn’t see the truth? </p>
<p>“You are, um, certainly different from the Akechi-senpai I met at my father’s studio,” Sumire acknowledged. “But I’m glad that you feel like you’re not pretending anymore!”</p>
<p>He hummed. He carried on walking, and Sumire walked alongside him.</p>
<p>“It is strange though, isn’t it? How we both disapproved of the Phantom Thieves and now we’re a part of them and are working together to save the world!”</p>
<p>“It is a rather strange turn of events,” he agreed. “But we cannot allow Maruki to continue with his actualisation.”</p>
<p>“Oh no, I completely agree! I don’t need Doctor Maruki’s help, I want to be able to stand up for myself as myself. But it’s amazing, to know that I’m one of the people who is going to save the whole world!”</p>
<p>Akechi didn’t reply, but he did quietly marvel at how the tides had changed. He’d actively worked in spite of this world and the people in it solely to destroy his father, and now he was fighting to restore it even though that potentially meant he’d lose this sham of a life. At least he could comfort himself with the knowledge that he was doing this for his own selfish reasons and not any misguided altruism. </p>
<p>Sumire was still walking alongside him, her gait not quite the bold, purposeful strides of when she was pretending to be Kasumi, nor the light, tentative steps of when she had returned to being Sumire, as though she was afraid to make too much noise or take up too much space. It was something in between – graceful steps, not quite carrying the confidence of her false, affected personality but not quite the scared, lost girl that had been left behind in Kasumi’s absence. </p>
<p>He found himself thinking again about the cognitions of Isshiki and President Okumura, and wondered how much difference there was between what they had been and what Maruki had turned Sumire into. They weren’t quite cognitions and neither was she, but none of them were truly the person they thought they were. And after finding nothing but empty space in the Diet CCTV footage, it was likely that he also fell into the same category. Something didn’t really sit right with him about that conclusion, although he wasn’t sure if that was just something instinctual within his mind trying to cling to any conclusion that didn’t mean that he was a dead man, but it was an avenue he had to consider.</p>
<p>“Yoshizawa-san,” he began carefully, and almost winced when she immediately spun to face him with wide eyes, like she was both surprised and flattered that he had actually decided to continue talking with her. As he thought of how her expression would crumple when he asked her what he wanted to know irrational guilt washed over him, but stopping now would be pointless. “If it’s not too painful for you, can I ask you some questions about how it was when you believed you were Kasumi?” As expected, the light in Sumire’s eyes dimmed, and she ducked her chin, staring at the ground. He continued before she could assume the worst. “I’m not asking simply through curiosity, or to judge you. I’m...” He hesitated. “I’m trying to better understand Maruki’s effect on people and their perceptions, and you were certainly a… unique case.”</p>
<p>“I don’t know how helpful I’d be,” she said, tugging absently at her ponytail. She seemed uncomfortable, but not as though she was about to actively flee from the conversation. “I… I really believed I was Kasumi, you know? So I don’t know if I can really help with specifics.”</p>
<p>“That’s fine,” he said, keeping his voice gentle and feeling terribly slimy about all of this. That was the exact tone that he’d use when trying to wrangle information for his fake investigations, and he’d fallen into it without even thinking. But if he started using his normal voice now she’d probably think he was mocking her, so he kept hold of it. “But, looking back on when you believed you were Kasumi, do you think that your… interpretation of her was accurate?” Sumire blinked at him, her brow furrowing, and he tried to rephrase. “That is, do you think you behaved in a way that was the same as the real Kasumi Yoshizawa, or a less accurate but a more… pleasant version? A version that perhaps didn’t have some of her more… undesirable traits? Not to suggest that she had many of those, but we all have flaws.”</p>
<p>Sumire paused for a moment, stopping in the street, and Akechi was almost thankful that seemingly everyone in this reality was too wrapped up in their own perfect little bubble to notice the two of them hovering around awkwardly, or the distress on her face. He was half-tempted to just tell her to forget it, but as he considered it he saw that while Sumire’s face was pinched she seemed to be more deep in thought than actively upset. </p>
<p>“I’m not sure,” she admitted, but her answer wasn’t dismissive. Her words were slow, like she was in the middle of mulling it over, and Akechi waited for her. “I mean, I had flaws when I thought I was Kasumi, but a lot of those flaws were Sumire creeping through, you know? Like Kasumi was always better than me in gymnastics, and I couldn’t live up to her style even when I thought I was her. My coach helped me see that. But I mean, Kasumi was great at everything – that’s what made her so special, so if I wasn’t great at everything when I was Kasumi, then that’s because I was really Sumire, right?”</p>
<p>“It’s impossible for someone to be great at everything,” he pointed out, although he decided not to go into his own attempts at seeking perfection in everything, and the lengths he’d gone to in order to project the image of his own superiority. While the list of things he excelled at was long and impressive – had been cultivated to be no less – he was under no illusions that there were some things that he would never be good at. (Nothing particularly sprung to mind, though.)</p>
<p>“That’s how it always seemed to me, though.” She paused, contemplating. “Maybe that’s also part of the reason why I wanted to be Kasumi, subconsciously. An even more selfish reason. Because if I was Kasumi, I could do anything, just like she could.”</p>
<p><i>Kasumi was her ideal self,</i> he realised. <i>She ignored all of her sister’s imperfections to the point where she couldn’t see them, and her idolisation of her sister fed into to her own self-loathing. She believed that Kasumi was better than her, so if Maruki had resurrected Kasumi like he had resurrected Isshiki or Okumura, that wouldn’t have necessarily made Sumire happiest right away. He took away the chance for them to reconcile and for Sumire to grow to make Sumire think she was her ideal self, to get the happiest ending in the shortest amount of time.</i></p>
<p>He couldn’t be certain that he was correct, but everything in Maruki’s reality so far seemed to come back to the idea of an ideal self. The Thieves had been living their ideal lives – Sakura eager to go to school with her resurrected mother’s support, Niijima following her father’s path unimpeded, Sakamoto a beloved track star leading his team to victory. Even his resurrected victims were more what their children wanted them to be than what they themselves would actually have been like. The only exceptions to this seemed to be him and Ren, unless somehow Ren’s ideal life involved living in an attic in Tokyo away from his family and with the people he’d known for less than a year. And actually, judging from what he knew of Ren, that could well be the case, which he supposed spoke volumes about what his life must have been like in his hometown. </p>
<p>But then there was Akechi himself. He hadn’t exactly sat himself down and asked himself what his ideal self would be like, and for what felt like forever his only goal had been to make Shido suffer, but it was clear that Maruki hadn’t deigned to give him that. Shido certainly wasn’t dead, and Akechi had known from the start that there was something wrong with this reality, and hadn’t been one of its hapless residents. Maruki may have erased his murderous past, or at least tried to, but he doubted that was for his own benefit – even the horrific change from killing Wakaba to stealing her heart may have been to fit with Futaba’s ideal, rather than his own. </p>
<p>However, as he had established earlier, if he truly was dead then he wasn’t his own creation. He could still be some variation of the ‘ideal’ Goro Akechi… but whose ideal version of him would be <i>this?</i> Surely someone would want the perfect Detective Prince, the likeable personality, and not an angry, aggressive, two-faced murderer. Nobody wanted him as his genuine self. This couldn’t be the ideal version. </p>
<p>He supposed that should really count as a point in his favour – a suggestion that he couldn’t actually be a cognition, as no one would want him to be the way he is, but that didn’t erase the fact that he had gone into Shido’s Palace and he had yet to find any concrete evidence of him coming out. </p>
<p>“Did that help you at all, Akechi-senpai?” Sumire piped up from his side, shaking him out of his reverie. </p>
<p>“Ah,” he said, taking a moment to compose himself and force a smile. “Yes. That was quite helpful, Yoshizawa-san.”</p>
<p>Her face brightened again, but it was a little more guarded than it had been before he had asked her about Kasumi. He supposed there was probably a more delicate way he could have gone about this, but at least he got his answer. He was an outlier, as before, but at least Maruki’s interference seemed to be consistent in its presentation. He began to wonder how Maruki may try to change him if somehow they didn’t manage to beat him in time, but stopped that train of thought before it could derail. There was no need to think about what would happen if they didn’t defeat Maruki – they were definitely going to stop him. Losing wasn’t an option.</p>
<p>“Um, Akechi-senpai? Is it okay if I ask you a… potentially weird question?”</p>
<p>Akechi glanced at her sidelong, and saw a blush crawling up her face. He raised an eyebrow at her, wondering what exactly would count as ‘weird’ after their previous conversation, and what could possibly be considered strange when they were currently trapped in a false reality created by a counsellor with a god complex. Nevertheless, he waited for her to speak.</p>
<p>“Um,” she stammered, fidgeting with a nervousness that didn’t suit her, “do you, um… know if Ren-senpai is dating someone?”</p>
<p>That was probably the last thing that Akechi would have ever expected her to say, and for a moment he just stared at her, completely lost. </p>
<p><i>Of course he isn’t dating anyone,</i> was what he immediately wanted to say, but as soon as he gave it more than a passing thought he realised that he didn’t know if that was actually true. Ren had been close with all of the Thieves but not in a way that struck Akechi as particularly romantic, but he apparently had a list of confidants all across Tokyo at his beck and call, and any one of them could be a potential romantic partner.</p>
<p>“...Why do you think I would know about that?” he asked slowly.</p>
<p>“W-well, you were a detective!” she said, but she began to shrink in on herself. “I’m sorry, it was just… I may have embarrassed myself in front of Ren-senpai. I was sure he wasn’t dating anyone, and he was so kind to me, so I… I may have gotten the wrong impression. But it’s absolutely fine!” she added, waving her hands in front of her. “We’re good friends, and honestly, this may just make our friendship even stronger!”</p>
<p><i>She asked out Ren and he turned her down,</i> he realised, and had to admit that he was surprised. Well, not entirely surprised – from what he had seen of their interactions Ren had seemed to treat her a lot like how he treated Futaba, but Ren was a teenage boy and she was a beautiful, renowned gymnast. Akechi may have had his own reasons to avoid dating entirely, and wasn’t interested in her in any way, but he imagined the people who would actively turn down Sumire Yoshizawa were few and far between. He couldn’t blame her for wanting to date Ren, though – even if he hid most of his brilliance outside of the Metaverse, it still somehow managed to shine through; the confidence and the danger of his presence refusing to be cowed and hidden. </p>
<p>...He pointedly wasn’t going to acknowledge the fact that he could better understand wanting to date Ren over Yoshizawa.</p>
<p>“I’m not aware that Ren is dating anyone,” he told her. “And I don’t think you would have embarrassed yourself, Yoshizawa-san.”</p>
<p>“Okay,” she said, letting out the word on a sigh, and she smiled a little more brightly. “Sorry about this-”</p>
<p>“It’s fine.” He shook his head minutely, dismissing this strange conversation. “Do you have any idea what Ren is planning on doing on these two days where he’s demanding we keep our schedules open?” he asked in a blatant attempt to change the topic.</p>
<p>“Oh, I don’t know for sure,” she said, seeming to relax a little more now that they weren’t talking about romantic endeavours. “I think one of them may be our return to Mementos, but I don’t think that would take us two days… but maybe Ren-senpai is just being overly cautious?”</p>
<p>“Perhaps,” he replied. She was probably right, but he was getting the horrible feeling that if their Mementos trip <i>didn’t</i> bleed over into two days that he’d be forced into some inane team-building exercise with the Thieves. He could stand their teamwork when it involved killing Shadows, and could even put up with all of them taking up half of Penguin Sniper when Ren decided they all had to play billiards together, but he had better things to do than waste multiple days spending time with them on their leader’s whim. </p>
<p>“If we end up not getting up to anything on the first, you’re welcome to come to practice with me!” Sumire told him, smiling up at him hopefully. “I can teach you how to do a cartwheel!”</p>
<p>“I know how to do a cartwheel,” he told her, and immediately regretted it when her face brightened. </p>
<p>“You’ll have to show me! And not just in the Metaverse!”</p>
<p>“I’m not exactly dressed for it,” Akechi reminded her, and Sumire let out a quiet, breathless laugh. </p>
<p>“Oh no, not right now! But next time, you should definitely show me a cartwheel! We could race!”</p>
<p>“I’m fairly sure you’d beat me,” he said, amused despite himself, and Sumire gave a bashful smile.</p>
<p>“Not necessarily! Besides, it doesn’t have to be a competition!”</p>
<p>Sumire began discussing the specifics of organising a cartwheel race that wasn’t necessarily a competition, and as she spoke in increasing detail about how the situation would work Akechi thought that she may have planned something similar in the past with Kasumi. He didn’t try to confirm that theory, instead simply listening as they made their way toward the train station together. </p>
<p>She bid him farewell on the platform, running to get her own train while Akechi waited for his to arrive, and Akechi mulled over their progress. They had nothing to do now except wait until the day of the heist, but seeing as Ren had wasted so much time earlier in the month hanging around with the other Thieves rather than making progress the heist itself wasn’t very far off. It would just be days until they stole Maruki’s heart, and this twisted dream would come to an end. </p>
<p>And so would he.</p>
<p><i>Don’t think about it,</i> he thought viciously, staring through the window of the train and pointedly ignoring the grinning masses pushing in on him from all sides. <i>You’ve made your choice. A life trapped under the thumb of someone who thinks he’s doing you a favour isn’t a life.</i></p>
<p>He refused to be trapped by Maruki. He refused to have his life and his perceptions twisted like he had twisted Yoshizawa, to become a smiling fool ignorant of everything that he had done, and everything that had shaped him. He’d been manipulated enough throughout his life – he refused to let someone just reach into his head as they saw fit and move everything around until he resembled something they preferred. He’d keep his truth and his own actions, no matter how cruel they were, because they were <i>his</i>. </p>
<p>He was almost back to his apartment when his phone buzzed insistently in his pocket, and when he tugged it out he raised an eyebrow at Ren’s name splashed across the screen. He accepted the call and carried on walking. </p>
<p>“Hello?”</p>
<p><i>“Hey,”</i> Ren greeted. <i>“Um, how are you doing?”</i></p>
<p>“Ah, so you’re not trying to hide the fact that you’re checking up on me,” Akechi said dryly. “I’m fine, Amamiya.”</p>
<p>
  <i>“Feel a little better now that the route is secured?”</i>
</p>
<p>“We should have had it secured weeks ago,” he retorted, and could practically hear Ren’s shrug in response. </p>
<p><i>“Well, it’s secured now at least.”</i> He paused for a moment, and Akechi was about to ask him if that was all when he spoke up again. <i>“Um, just so you know, I was planning on taking everyone into Mementos on the thirty-first to deal with your targets from the other day. If you can text me the names then me and Morgana can send them calling cards before then.”</i></p>
<p>“We don’t need calling cards,” Akechi pointed out, and Ren’s voice lost a little of the easy charm. </p>
<p>
  <i>“I know that you want to destroy the conspiracy, but we’re not killing them. If we make them confess, then they can incriminate any ones we didn’t manage to get to.”</i>
</p>
<p>It was a good enough excuse for mercy, and not one Akechi could easily refute. Besides, he doubted the other Thieves would be on board with murder. Well, so long as Ren was doing the legwork he supposed he wasn’t losing anything by going along with it. </p>
<p>“Fine.” </p>
<p>
  <i>“Cool.”</i>
</p>
<p>“And your grand plan for the first of February?”</p>
<p>Ren let out a quiet chuckle. <i>“That’s a secret.”</i></p>
<p>“This had better not be some inane team-building exercise.”</p>
<p><i>“Nah, you’ll like it. At least I’m pretty sure you will.”</i> He hesitated again, and Akechi turned his key and stepped into his apartment. <i>“Morgana’s gone to see Futaba,”</i> Ren said, and Akechi paused. </p>
<p>“Okay?”</p>
<p>
  <i>“So no one is listening in on this. It’s just you and me.”</i>
</p>
<p>“Where are you going with this?” he asked, his grip tightening on his phone a little as he closed his front door behind him.  </p>
<p><i>“Just…”</i> He sighed softly. <i>“Are you sure you’re okay? You’ve been acting kinda weird lately-”</i></p>
<p>That ignited a flare of irritation within him, and he bit down hard on his lip before he snarled down the phone, cutting off whatever stupidity Ren was about to spew. “I’m very sorry if my genuine personality is so ‘weird’ to you, but I’m not about to pretend to be some pathetic, simpering fool just because it’s more palatable-”</p>
<p><i>“No, that’s not what I’m talking about,”</i> Ren interrupted quickly but firmly. <i>“Your genuine personality is fine.”</i> Akechi scoffed, but Ren continued undeterred. <i>“I know that you’re angry, you have every right to be angry at all of this after everything, but… you went into Mementos on your own to try to kill a guy that none of us had heard of, and you pointed a gun at me. I know that you wouldn’t have fired,”</i> he assured him, as if that was something he had any right to be sure about, as if Akechi hadn’t seriously considered shooting him just because he was pissed off, <i>“but you were shaken up. I’m not going to make you tell me what happened, but, well, if you want to tell me, Morgana isn’t here. It’d just be between us.”</i></p>
<p>Akechi dropped into one of his chairs, staring at the blank, featureless wall.</p>
<p>
  <i>I found out about Minamimoto while I was trying to get definitive evidence that I’m not dead. Oh yes, I may be dead, and even better than that, I might just be a construct brought into this world by someone who wanted me here as I am, who could change what they want me to be at any moment and I’d be helpless to stop them. Also, Maruki forcibly stopped me from killing Minamimoto and almost took my free will away in retaliation. I also went to see Shido before that, and I still want him dead more than I want anything, so at least that’s a constant in my awful life.</i>
</p>
<p>Explaining any of that to Ren would be pointless. It would change nothing except make Ren more aware of Akechi’s own failings and lies, and he already knew enough about that. Besides, they just had a few more days until the deadline, and after that it wouldn’t matter. He’d either be dead or back in prison, and either way would no longer be Ren’s problem. In fact, after the deadline, Ren would never have to think about him ever again.</p>
<p>
  <i>Don’t think about it.</i>
</p>
<p>“It’s nothing that concerns you,” he said, knowing that if he told Ren he was fine that he wouldn’t listen. “You should be more concerned about making sure that we are all prepared for the heist.”</p>
<p>There was silence for a moment on the other end of the line, and then a soft, half-stifled sigh breathed down the phone. </p>
<p>
  <i>“Yeah. Okay. I’ll leave you to it, but if you change your mind, you can call me. Or text me. Or whatever.”</i>
</p>
<p>“Of course,” Akechi replied, knowing full well that he wasn’t going to contact him at all unless he absolutely had to. “Goodbye, Ren.”</p>
<p><i>“Bye,”</i> he said, and Akechi hung up, leaning the back of his head against the wall. </p>
<p>Just a few more days. He just had to get through a few more days and then this entire backwards reality would be erased and they could all move on. </p>
<p>He pushed himself up and grabbed a pad of paper, laying his phone on his kitchen counter and opening the Metaverse Navigator. He took a moment to be thankful for the occasionally helpful nature of the Metaverse – he had told himself that he’d remember all of the names as he demanded them from Minamimoto, and now he tried to recall them he found name after name coming easily to mind. He recited the names to the Nav, writing out the ones that were hits one by one, focusing only on that same, repetitive task. </p>
<p>He tried not to wonder what Ren would think if he suddenly disappeared after the Palace, once all of his ‘weird’ behaviour abruptly had an explanation. He tried not to think about what would happen in the immediate aftermath of when they finally stopped Maruki and stole his Treasure; if the world would fall apart delicately or would tear itself apart in thick, ragged pieces. If it would be slow or fast, gentle or painful. </p>
<p>He compiled the list of targets that Maruki hadn’t already gotten to, and tried to ignore the creeping realisation that, despite everything and his choice, he really didn’t want to die.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you all so much for the comments and kudos! I never expected to pass 100 kudos, and the positive reaction to this fic has been amazing! </p>
<p>Not much more now, I'll try to post the next chapter sometime this week and the final one not long after :)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The Phantom Thieves have one final Mementos trip, and a surprise the day before the calling card.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>On January 31st, three days before Maruki’s actualisation would be irreversible, the Phantom Thieves gathered in Leblanc for their final trip into Mementos. </p>
<p>“Seriously, man?” Ryuji sighed, sagging where he stood. “I thought we were like, doing something different for once.”</p>
<p>“This’ll be a little different,” Ren said, reclining against the bar. He looked toward Akechi, silently giving him the option to do the honours, and Akechi rolled his eyes like he didn’t want to be the centre of attention. </p>
<p>“I’ve compiled a list of the remaining members of Shido’s conspiracy,” Akechi told them all, and watched the Phantom Thieves’ eyes widen. “Once Maruki is dealt with our access to the Metaverse will probably disappear, as will our opportunity to stop them. If we manage to get through all of them today, then we will deal a decisive blow to them and ensure that the conspiracy is utterly unable to recover.”</p>
<p>The other Thieves were quiet as he spoke, and for a moment Akechi was abruptly certain that none of them would agree to do this. That they’d suspect him for waiting so long to provide the names to them, that they’d decide that it wasn’t worth their time to go back through Mementos when they were so close to the day of the heist. Maybe destroying Shido’s conspiracy wasn’t important to them anymore, or maybe they were sure that any changes they made now wouldn’t stick once this reality was disposed of, and therefore was an exercise in futility. He kept his expression neutral but clenched his jaw minutely, mentally preparing an appropriate speech that would change their minds and make them understand that they couldn’t let this chance slip by. </p>
<p>“Dude,” Ryuji said, a slow grin spreading across his face. “You serious?”</p>
<p>“This is all of them?” Futaba pressed, sitting up a little straighter in the booth. “The rest of all those awful people who helped Shido get to power?”</p>
<p>“As far as I know, yes,” Akechi said, unwilling to give her of all people an empty promise. “There shouldn’t be others, but if there are, then by eliminating the ones we know about we should render them impotent.”</p>
<p>“How many targets?” Makoto asked, her arms folded across her chest but her eyes alight with interest. </p>
<p>“Fifteen.”</p>
<p>Ryuji gave a low whistle, and Ann looked between the other Thieves with mild alarm. </p>
<p>“That’s a lot of targets,” she said softly. “The most we’ve gone for in a day before has been five, right?”</p>
<p>“But there are ten members of the team now,” Haru pointed out, although she looked a little startled too.  “We should be more than capable of defeating them.”</p>
<p>“Their Shadows should all be different levels of strong,” Morgana said from his bar stool. “They won’t all be super powerful, some of them are bound to be weaklings.”</p>
<p>“We’ve already sent out what calling cards we can,” Ren continued. “If everyone agrees that they want to do this, then we can go into Mementos and take all of them down. It’ll probably be a long day, but this would mean that we’ve done everything we could to stop them.”</p>
<p>“We could ensure that there are no more victims of these people,” Yusuke said, voice quiet. He gave a firm nod. “I will do all I can to assist with this endeavour.”</p>
<p>“If we take all their hearts, then one of them might have info on where exactly my mom’s research went, and what’s left,” Futaba said softly, her eyes hardening. “I’ll do it. Let’s crush those guys!”</p>
<p>One by one the Phantom Thieves gave their confirmation until the decision was unanimous, and Akechi let his prepared speech slip away from him. They were all smiling, practically buzzing with the thought of taking down the conspiracy once and for all, and it took Akechi a moment to accept that it really was this easy. Out of the corner of his eye he spotted Ren smiling too, his pride toward his team shining through as it always did, but he supposed it wasn’t just Ren’s team now. It was his team too – his team who were apparently more than happy to help bury his demons. He wasn’t naive enough to think that they were doing this for him, but they weren’t opposed to helping even though they knew that this would benefit him. </p>
<p>It wasn’t the same, but it was almost enough to convince himself that maybe, just maybe, they wanted to help him just as much as they wanted to end Shido’s influence. And if he wanted to believe that and not tell a soul, then who would stop him?</p>
<p>“Well then,” he said, fighting to keep anything resembling gratitude out of his voice. If he started acting soft around these Thieves again he’d never hear the end of it. “Shall we?” </p>
<p>*</p>
<p>It was a long day that took the Thieves into every single block of Mementos, blood red walls swapped for sickly green and muted violet until they reached the white walls of Maruki’s extension, every few floors interrupted by the presence of one of their targets. As expected, not all of the names Minamimoto had given Akechi corresponded to powerful or even competent monsters – many of them didn’t seem to even know what they had signed up for and barely even seemed to  know who Shido or his replacement even were. The first six seemed to just be high-up businessmen who were more than happy to funnel money wherever they were asked to in exchange for the police turning a blind eye to their tax evasion and white collar crime, perfectly content to maintain the cycle of the corrupt elite protecting one another. </p>
<p>Akechi stayed quiet when they detailed their crimes, even as the details became uncomfortably similar to President Okumura’s actions. He noticed Noir holding onto her axe a little more tightly after those targets – evidently so did Queen, who went and spoke with her privately between targets – but said nothing. </p>
<p>On the way further down they came across the guard in the Diet Building, Takahashi, and Akechi found himself tensing, wondering if the Shadow would mention the visitor or somehow recognise him behind the black mask outfit. Of course it turned out to be a pointless thing to worry about – Takahashi’s Shadow didn’t so much as mention him, or mention much of anything aside from how proud he was to have a purpose now that he’d been promoted to the security in the Diet Building, having such an instrumental role in Minamimoto’s rise to power. They took his heart quickly enough, and then dove deeper in search of the others. </p>
<p>The ones deeper down were not only more powerful but more distorted, as was usually the case. A police chief who hid connections to extortion brackets and drug rings whose money also helped fund the conspiracy, another officer who destroyed evidence and organised yakuza hits on those who refused to stay quiet and let the rot spread further. Akechi could have sworn that Queen’s face was paler when she fought those two, although all of her strikes seemed to be harder than usual. </p>
<p>There was a judge and a prosecutor, another CEO, and finally, in one of the lower floors, a scrawny man in a white lab coat. Oracle straightened up at the sight of him, and after the man mentioned the Metaverse and cognitive psience she summoned Al Azif without preamble and immediately hacked the position of the starting line-up, practically ending the fight before it had a chance to begin. </p>
<p>Two targets left, and although it had to have been hours since they had first set foot in Mementos by now the team was still going strong. With every additional target taken down, Akechi found himself becoming more and more optimistic for the final heist in a few days’ time. Not that he had particularly expected the Thieves to struggle against such pathetic enemies, or for Maruki to prove insurmountable, but it was somewhat comforting to see once again just how powerful they were, and how well they worked together. Even he and Violet had slotted into the team’s configuration perfectly – his powerful attacks and ability to debilitate their foes working in harmony with her ability to encourage everyone’s Personas to hit with wicked, deadly precision. They were all a remarkable combination, able to destroy anyone who got in their path. </p>
<p>However, with the long time they were spending in Mementos Akechi began to notice something he hadn’t when they’d been making their way through Maruki’s Palace, distracted as he was by the need to secure the route and get this over with. It seemed that somehow, between December and now, all of the Phantom Thieves’ Personas had changed. </p>
<p>They weren’t little changes, and honestly he was somewhat embarrassed that he hadn’t noticed when it had initially happened. Their Personas had transformed entirely – while their attacks and specialities remained the same, implying that it was more of an aesthetic change than one that had changed them utterly, they barely resembled the forms that Akechi had known. It had disquieted him at first, the implication that somehow the Thieves had been bestowed the power of multiple Personas that had been reserved for him and Joker alone making his skin crawl and his own abilities feel cheap, but once he realised that these new forms were their singular Personas, he found himself able to breathe a little easier. Their hearts had just been strengthened, rather than being blessed with <i>his</i> power. </p>
<p>But, as Violet summoned Vanadis rather than Cendrillon, he couldn’t help a small stab of envy. Their Personas had evolved and changed, their heart’s resolve made manifest, while he was still bound to Loki despite his own resolve to destroy this reality. He could still feel Robin Hood nestled deep within his soul, ready to spring forth if needed, but surely wasn’t his own determination worth another strengthening? </p>
<p>Was this further evidence towards his death? Was he incapable of growth because he was some stagnant version of himself, made for someone else and frozen until they decided otherwise? Or was there some part of him that still hadn’t truly accepted the need to end this reality even if it ended him? Did this mean that part of him subconsciously wanted this reality despite the prison that it was, just because he’d be alive and not alone? </p>
<p>He didn’t have long to linger on this before they were back in the Mona bus, delving deeper into the depths and approaching the final targets. </p>
<p>The final two were politicians, and while Takahashi had no idea who Akechi was, the final politician seemed to recognise him instantly. </p>
<p>“Black Mask,” he crooned, ignoring the gathered Thieves entirely as his golden eyes stared straight at Akechi. “I wondered when you’d show yourself. Are you finally ready to share your services with us again?”</p>
<p>The Thieves were quiet, waiting for his response first, and Akechi drew his sabre. </p>
<p>“My services have expired, I’m afraid,” he said with a sneer, and the Shadow sneered back. </p>
<p>“Yeah, that’s right!” Skull called out from behind him, loud and inexplicably enthusiastic. “He doesn’t listen to you guys anymore!”</p>
<p>He shouldn’t have been comforted by Skull’s brash support, but it was so unexpected that he almost lost his concentration. </p>
<p>“You should have stayed on the winning side,” the Shadow snarled. </p>
<p>“I <i>am</i> on the winning side,” he retorted. “You’ve already lost.”</p>
<p>The Shadow exploded into a stronger form, but even tired as the Thieves were from the other targets the Shadow went down in a pitifully short amount of turns. Joker stole his Treasure almost before he had finished his pathetic moaning, and as he turned back toward Oracle she threw up her arm, punching the air. </p>
<p>“That’s the last one! Mission accomplished!”</p>
<p>“Finally!” Panther groaned, but there was a grin on her face. </p>
<p>“All of Shido’s network, gone,” Queen said softly, shaking her head minutely. “I can barely believe it...”</p>
<p>“This should stop them from making a resurgence any time soon,” Akechi said, rolling out his shoulders, and Noir clapped her hands together. </p>
<p>“Congratulations, everyone!” she called out, and the Thieves grinned at one another victoriously. Violet even offered double high fives to each one of them, and Akechi went along with it even though it earned him a look of slack-jawed shock from Skull. </p>
<p>“I thought you were allergic to fun or something, man,” Skull told him when Akechi raised an eyebrow at him, and Akechi was very proud of himself for not immediately lunging for his sabre to demonstrate his idea of fun. He just shrugged instead, which was boring but also safe. He didn’t really want to start a fight now, when they’d only just finished making their way through the targets together.</p>
<p>They left Mementos without much preamble, and once they were back in the real world exhaustion seemed to properly hit the Thieves. Ann and Yusuke were leaning heavily against the wall, and while Ryuji and Sumire had an athlete’s stamina both of them looked a little worse for wear after the gruelling day. Futaba and Haru were blinking repeatedly, seemingly struggling to keep their eyes open, and while Makoto was still standing to attention, waiting patiently for her dismissal like Joker was her boss, she seemed to be swaying a little. Akechi had to admit that he was tired too, but he could hide it much more easily than the others – he’d spent the last two years working himself to the bone for the police and for Shido, after all.</p>
<p>Ren was also hiding his exhaustion well, smiling at all of his team with the same warm pride that he seemed to have in spades for his team. </p>
<p>“Good job today guys,” he said, shoving his hands in his pockets. “You were all great.”</p>
<p>The Thieves all visibly brightened at the praise, but Akechi kept his own expression neutral. Ren looked between them all, nodding silently, before his smile became a little lopsided. </p>
<p>“Remember to come to Leblanc tomorrow too,” he reminded them, and Ryuji groaned. </p>
<p>“Really? We did everything today, man!”</p>
<p>“We’re not going to Mementos,” Ren assured him, and Futaba nodded. </p>
<p>“Yeah, Ryuji! We’re going to be doing something <i>fun!”</i></p>
<p>Ryuji looked abruptly more interested, and he leaned toward Futaba. “D’ya know what the plan is for tomorrow then?” he asked, and Futaba stuck her tongue out at him. </p>
<p>“Maaaybe,” she teased, dragging out the first syllable, rocking back on her heels. “So you’d all better show up! It’ll be no fun if no one turns up!” She spun, pointing a finger at Sumire and making her jump. “You especially need to come, Sumire!”</p>
<p>“O-of course Futaba-senpai!” she exclaimed, and Futaba beamed. </p>
<p>“Cool,” Ren said, drawing everyone’s attention again. “So, is everyone happy to come to Leblanc tomorrow afternoon?” A chorus of nods were his reply, and he nodded back. “Great. See you all then.”</p>
<p>The Thieves began to disperse, but Akechi kept standing beside the entrance, the situation finally beginning to sink in. </p>
<p>The conspiracy that supported Shido was dead, and he had killed it. He may not have been able to achieve his ultimate revenge against his father in the manner that he had hoped to, but this was still an unequivocal victory over him. </p>
<p>Everything that Shido had built, everything that he spent so much time and money orchestrating to establish and maintain his chokehold on society, he had turned to ash. So long as removing Maruki’s reality didn’t rewrite their changes of heart, by the end of the week any co-conspirators that they hadn’t managed to crush would be exposed for the scum that they were. </p>
<p>Months ago he wouldn’t have even considered the possibility of taking all of Shido’s people down – in fact, he barely gave a passing thought to the people who were part of his conspiracy when he didn’t have to physically interact with them – but now he’d destroyed them. If he survived the theft of Maruki’s Treasure, then he’d be safe from them now. And if he didn’t, then the Thieves would be. </p>
<p>Did he still feel like there would be some sort of debt to settle with the Thieves, or was there simply some satisfaction to be found in being the one who had guaranteed their safety after everything that had transpired? Or did he just want to do something good for once? </p>
<p>He decided not to think too hard about it – it definitely wasn’t the final option, at least – and began to head back to his apartment. Whatever strange things Ren had decided that they all needed to do tomorrow, he would be prepared for it at least. </p>
<p>*</p>
<p>Akechi ran into Sumire at the Yongen-Jaya station, and despite their extended contact over the last few weeks her face still lit up when she caught sight of him. They walked to Leblanc together, Sumire’s excited guesses regarding what was waiting for them distracting him from the disgustingly cheerful faces of the people around them. He held open the front door for Sumire to step through first, but as soon as he crossed the threshold he almost collided with her back where she’d stopped. </p>
<p>He stumbled to a stop, brow furrowing, until he looked over her head and stared in blooming horror. There were balloons all over the tables and chairs, confetti scattered across the bar, and the Thieves that were already gathered were all wearing grins – even Ren, whose grin was much smaller but still present. Sojiro Sakura was standing behind the counter, not quite grinning but a tiny, amused smile playing at the edges of his lips. </p>
<p>“What is this?” Sumire asked, delight clear in her voice, while Akechi wondered if one of the Thieves was due a birthday and he was going to have to pretend to care. </p>
<p>“A celebration,” Ren said, looking between the two of them, and Akechi kept his face carefully neutral, with just a hint of derision. “A welcome celebration, for joining the Phantom Thieves.”</p>
<p>Akechi opened his mouth to explain that he hadn’t truly joined the Thieves, that they were just working together to take down a larger threat, but Sumire had already clapped her hands over her mouth, turning to Akechi like she couldn’t believe that such an event was meant for her. He closed his mouth again, but folded his arms across his chest, waiting for Ren to elaborate. </p>
<p>“We had a welcome celebration for everyone else when they joined the team. It was usually after their first finished heist,” he admitted, rubbing at the back of his neck, “but we had spare time and some balloons left over after Yusuke’s birthday, so...”</p>
<p>“So we’re having a curry making competition!” Futaba exclaimed from her booth, grinning widely, and Akechi blinked at her in surprise. “Sojiro, explain the rules!”</p>
<p>“Okay, okay,” Sojiro huffed with a fond laugh, and turned to the gathered Thieves. He glanced toward Sumire but didn’t so much as look at Akechi. “Good curry takes a while, so Ren made up a batch this morning without any fancy ingredients. Each of you gets a pot of pre-made curry, and you get to add whatever you want to it to make it your own. Everyone gets a taste, but the judges are me and him.” He jerked a thumb in Ren’s direction. “We’ll be ranking each one.” </p>
<p>At that there was an unholy scraping noise, and Futaba pulled out the chalkboard that was occasionally standing outside Leblanc, that had been freshly decorated with a column of the Thieves names and an empty row beside each one. Five stars had been crudely drawn across the top to demonstrate the ranking system, and while the names at the very top of the list – Ann and Sumire being the first two – were written in big, bold characters, as the list descended whoever had written the names out had realised that they were quickly running out of space, and at the very bottom, fighting for space was ‘Goro Akechi’. He had to physically stop himself from sneering at that. </p>
<p>“The cooking order can be changed,” Ren added, ever the mediator, but Akechi refused to make a scene over such a small slight. </p>
<p>“You can go to the convenience store to whatever ingredients you want, I’m not letting any of you kids use what’s meant for the customers,” Sojiro said, but as soon as he saw Yusuke deflate he grimaced. “I’ll pay for whatever ingredients you want, Yusuke.”</p>
<p>“Ah, excellent,” Yusuke said with obvious relief. “I believe squid ink and jagariko would do wonders for the colour and texture.”</p>
<p>Sojiro’s face grew slack with horror.</p>
<p>“The kitchen isn’t big enough for all of us to make curry at once,” Akechi pointed out, and Futaba rolled her eyes dramatically. </p>
<p>“Ren’s already thought of that!” she exclaimed like it should have been obvious, and Akechi’s eyes darted over to the boy in question.</p>
<p>“Two at a time in the kitchen, and I have a games console and a pack of cards upstairs,” he explained, and Akechi had to admit his interest was piqued. </p>
<p>“I take it you all know how to play poker?” he asked, and a sharp smirk pulled at the corner of Ren’s lips in answer. </p>
<p>“Oh no you don’t!” Ryuji called out, slashing a hand violently through the air. “I’m not playing a game about lying with you or Ren!”</p>
<p>“That is a gross oversimplification of the game,” Akechi pointed out as Ren huffed a quiet laugh, but Ryuji was shaking his head seriously. </p>
<p>“Don’t care man, there’s no way you’re getting me to play that.”</p>
<p>“What about Tycoon?” Ren suggested instead, not bothering to argue the point, and the other Thieves brightened up a bit. “We can play a few rounds while someone’s getting the ingredients and cooking, then taste test, and repeat.” He gave a little shrug. “I know it’s not a massive celebration-”</p>
<p>“That sounds wonderful, Senpai!” Sumire interrupted, that genuinely delighted expression not wavering for a second. “I love cooking, and I’ve not had much of a chance to play cards in a group before!”</p>
<p>“Great!” Futaba said, mirroring her grin as she punched the air. “Let Sumire and Akechi’s official welcome to the Phantom Thieves begin!”</p>
<p>Akechi blinked, stunned into silence for a moment as he realised that yes, <i>Futaba</i> of all people had confirmed that this celebration was also for him. The other Thieves were cheering before he had a chance to recover – even Haru, inexplicably – and Ann clapped her hands together before standing up from behind the booth. </p>
<p>“My name was up first, right?” she said, smiling. “C’mon, Sumire! Let’s go and get some ingredients!”</p>
<p>She strode over and looped her arm with Sumire’s, who looked a little startled but not upset by the sudden contact, and waved to the others before she was practically dragged out of the door by Takamaki. The Thieves watched her go before they began to scramble up from their seats, Futaba somehow leading the charge up the stairs and into the attic. Akechi felt Sojiro’s eyes on him as he reluctantly followed them, even as Ren hung back at the foot of the staircase, purposefully waiting for him. </p>
<p>“I thought I made my feelings on a team-building exercise clear,” he said, and Ren absently played with a lock of hair that hung in his face. </p>
<p>“It’s not team-building, we’re already a team,” Ren replied, like that justified everything. “It’s a celebration for you and Sumire.” Akechi grimaced to hide the little spark of flattery that ignited in his chest at Ren of all people telling him that he was being celebrated, but Ren seemed undeterred. “We can play a game of poker if you want, I have more than one pack of cards.”</p>
<p>Akechi looked at him, wondering if he would be so willing to give special treatment to his other teammates, and shrugged instead. </p>
<p>“I’m not entirely averse to Tycoon,” he confessed, and saw Ren’s face light up at the admission. </p>
<p>“Cool. Just warning you, the others are pretty good at it.”</p>
<p>Akechi scoffed quietly, doubting that very much, and ascended the staircase with confidence that he would be the victor in these games, even if Tycoon was based more on chance than skill. </p>
<p>He was proven wrong by the second round, when he had been brought down to a beggar while Makoto tried and failed to hide her smug smile at keeping hold of her title of tycoon. Yusuke had managed to gain the title of ‘rich’, something he seemed to be strangely happy about, while Morgana was sitting at poor, but clearly the only reason that Akechi was currently losing to a cat was because Ren was helping him cheat. (With the lack of thumbs that his Metaverse form provided Ren had volunteered to move the cards on Morgana’s behalf, so Morgana was balancing on Ren’s shoulder and whispering in his ear, pointing at the cards fanned out in Ren’s hand.)</p>
<p>Futaba and Ryuji had successfully booted up Ren’s ancient games console and were teaching Haru the intricacies of Punch-Ouch, and Ryuji’s overly enthusiastic commentary of their game was doing nothing to improve Akechi’s mood as Morgana gave him a look that oozed with smugness. Akechi sneered at him in response when Makoto cleared her throat purposefully and held out a hand to him when he looked toward her. </p>
<p>“Two of your cards please, Akechi-kun,” she said, still not quite biting back that victorious smirk, and he had half a mind to offer to teach her how to hide her true feelings better and become a little less insufferable. </p>
<p>He brought his expression under control as a free demonstration, and plucked an ace and his lone two out of his hand, offering them to Makoto with a forced smile. He caught the hint of amusement on Ren’s face from where he sat directly across from him, but when he was about to challenge him it disappeared again. Makoto passed him a three of diamonds and a four of hearts, and Akechi blinked down at the shocking hand he’d been dealt. He had an eight, and a couple pairs… if he played this well, then he may be able to reclaim his dignity and dethrone Makoto.</p>
<p>A loud whoop from Ryuji as Haru’s character landed a successful combo against Futaba’s almost made him flinch, and Akechi played his lowest cards just to get them out of his hand. He’d slowly managed to get rid of all of his lesser cards when Yusuke abruptly shouted for revolution, and he bit back a loud curse as all of the cards he had left were rendered useless. He felt a brief flicker of satisfaction when Makoto let out a horrified cry, and when Yusuke knocked her down to beggar instead it wasn’t quite as entertaining as it would have been if Akechi had done it himself, but it was still better than letting her win unimpeded. Morgana loudly demanded another round, blaming Ren for his loss, but all Ren did was smile amicably and start dealing new cards. </p>
<p>They were halfway through another game, Akechi’s hand not depleting nearly as quickly as he would have liked, when Ann’s voice called out from the stairway, loud enough to cut through all of the noise of the gathered Thieves. </p>
<p>“Guys! Our curries are ready, so get down here!”</p>
<p>They did, and soon the Thieves were hovering around Leblanc while Ren took his place beside Sojiro behind the counter, the two of them making possibly the least intimidating duo of judges Akechi had ever seen. Still, Sumire and Ann were shifting uncomfortably beside the bar, two similar looking plates of curry set in front of them. </p>
<p>“Don’t look so nervous,” Sojiro chuckled, offering a comforting smile to the two of them that had Sumire uncurling a little from where she had begun to shrink away. She stood up a little straighter as Ren and Sojiro each took a spoon and scooped up a bit of Sumire’s curry.</p>
<p>The Thieves were all leaning closer to them like this was some fascinating event, and Akechi made sure to keep his distance even as Futaba pulled the chalkboard around, poised and ready to write down whatever their ranking would be. Ren and Sojiro each took a bite, and while Sojiro gave a contemplative hum Ren simply nodded. </p>
<p>“It’s good,” Ren said, and Sumire’s face lit up. </p>
<p>“It is pretty good,” Sojiro agreed. “Good level of spice, good balance of ingredients.” He pushed it a little away from him, closer to the gathered Thieves. “You all want a try?”</p>
<p>The Thieves gave a collective agreement, Ryuji’s voice louder than all of the others to no one’s surprise, and Makoto was already moving to collect enough spoons for everyone to have one. She even passed one to Akechi with a smile that didn’t seem forced. He tried it, and had to admit that it wasn’t bad, but he had to admit that the ones Ren had made him back when he was still trying to lull him into a false sense of security were better. He didn’t get a chance to voice his opinion over the Thieves rushing to tell Sumire just how good it was, her face flushing with pride and joy even as she nervously played with her hair. After a relatively short debate, five stars were scrawled across the chalkboard beside Sumire’s name. </p>
<p>Ann’s was next, and while they were all very complimentary it quickly became clear that Sumire’s was better. Sojiro said something about it being a little sweet, and when Akechi finally managed to get a spoonful he had to stop himself from curling his lip at the thick, cloying honey that should have been a subtle hint almost overpowering the taste of actual curry. The others clearly weren’t as averse to it as he was, as four stars were drawn beside Ann’s name as she grinned widely and announced that she’d keep practising and next time would get it absolutely perfect. </p>
<p>The day went on in a very similar fashion. Futaba and Yusuke were next up, a small pile of yen placed in Yusuke’s hands that he solemnly told Sojiro that he would spend carefully, and as Ann and Sumire were dealt into Tycoon Haru and Ryuji successfully cajoled Makoto into joining them in Punch-Ouch. Ren and Morgana were working as a team now, but their combined tactics didn’t seem to make them any better at Tycoon, and while Makoto had insisted at the start of the game that she had very little experience with videogames she quickly got much more into it than Akechi had expected, shouting at the screen when she lost and high-fiving Haru hard enough for even her to wince when she was victorious. Ann and Sumire kept glancing over to her, looking simultaneously amused and concerned, but Ren just had a tiny fond smile on his lips like he had known exactly how Makoto would react. </p>
<p>Quicker than he had expected Sojiro called them down again, and sitting on the bar in front of a proud looking Futaba and Yusuke were two vastly different plates. Futaba’s looked incredibly normal, the smooth sauce a pleasing colour somewhere between orange and brown, while Yusuke’s was almost black, with various chunks of unidentifiable meat(?) and vegetables(?) sitting among the dark sauce. A tiny red cocktail umbrella had been speared through something that looked vaguely like an octopus tentacle, and everyone in Leblanc stared at the plate with a combination of surprise and dread. There was a distinctly fishy smell coming from it, cutting through the strong curry spices. </p>
<p>Yusuke, oblivious to their distress, stood a little straighter, a proud smile set on his face. </p>
<p>“I call it ‘The Unfathomable Deep’,” he announced, and somehow Sojiro’s face paled even further. “It is both a homage to the deep, balanced flavours of curry, with its unknown ingredients and endless versatility, and the deep unknown of the sea.” </p>
<p>“C-curry has a recipe,” Makoto stammered, like that was the only thing wrong with everything Yusuke had done here. “You can easily learn the ingredients...”</p>
<p>There was the click of the shutter of a phone camera in the silence that descended among them all, and Ann lowered her phone. </p>
<p>“Um, would you mind if I shared this with Shiho?” she asked, and Yusuke shook his head with an incredulous expression. </p>
<p>“Of course not, art should be shared. You may also make a note of this for your food blog if you wish, Akechi-kun.” </p>
<p>Akechi blinked at the abomination before him, and cleared his throat. “I’ll bear that in mind,” he said, and watched with dawning horror as Ren stuck his spoon into the ‘sauce’ and withdrew a mass of black goop that definitely had a tentacle dangling off of it. Akechi felt like he was some spectator off in the distance as Ren stuck the whole thing in his mouth without hesitation, ignoring his teammates’ warning cries, and waited for the dawning disgust. Instead Ren’s face simply became smooth and contemplative, and he gave a small, surprised hum. </p>
<p>“It’s not bad,” he said, to the shock of everyone but Yusuke. “It’s fish curry.”</p>
<p>“Squid and octopus curry,” Yusuke corrected. “With some vegetables and garnish.”</p>
<p>Ren nodded to himself, like that made everything much more clear, and Sojiro cleared his throat in the awkward silence that followed.</p>
<p>“Yeah, well, I’ll try Futaba’s,” Sojiro grumbled, and took his own spoonful before tasting it. Inexplicably, Sojiro frowned. “Futaba… is this just my basic curry recipe?”</p>
<p>“Yep,” she said smugly from her crouched position on the bar stool. </p>
<p>“You didn’t add <i>anything</i> to it?”</p>
<p>“You shouldn’t change perfection!”</p>
<p>Ren scooped up a small bit of curry to try, and hummed. “Two stars,” he said and Futaba gave an indignant squawk. “You didn’t embrace the spirit of the curry competition.” He turned to Yusuke. “Three stars. It was different, but I think the octopus needed cooking for a bit longer.”</p>
<p>“Ah,” Yusuke said, bowing his head slightly. “I’ll bear that in mind in the future.”</p>
<p>Ren looked around the gathered Thieves, raising an eyebrow. “Anyone else want to be brave and try Yusuke’s?”</p>
<p>“Uh, no thanks,” Ryuji said, the others rushing to make excuses not to, but Ren’s eyes were lingering on Akechi’s. He could see the challenge shining in his eyes, hidden behind his blank expression, and Akechi grimaced. There was no way in hell he was going to back down.</p>
<p>“Fine,” he said, stepping forward and feeling all of the Thieves’ eyes on him as he dipped his spoon in the part of the black curry furthest away from the red cocktail umbrella, suspecting that if he interfered with the presentation of Yusuke’s dish he’d never hear the end of it. It was a little more solid than he’d expected, seemingly congealing on the spoon, and he’d somehow managed to catch a little bit of what was probably squid too. Brushing it off would be a sign of weakness, so he simply took in a breath, taking a moment to prepare for an abomination. Showing any outward distress would be a concession that he wasn’t willing to give. </p>
<p>He stuck the spoon in his mouth, hearing Haru and Sumire gasp, and blinked. It… actually wasn’t bad. It certainly wasn’t <i>good</i>, far too much squid ink and almost as fishy as sushi, but he didn’t feel the need to immediately spit it out. He kept his surprise hidden, keeping his expression perfectly neutral, and smiled at Ren once he was done. </p>
<p>“Three stars seems reasonable,” he said, and Ren practically beamed at him in reply. </p>
<p>“Fine,” Sojiro said, and Haru drew the stars on the board beside their names. “I’ll take your word for it.”</p>
<p>Next up were Haru and Ryuji, who left to buy ingredients with a shared enthusiasm, and everyone else retreated to the attic once more. The games console was abandoned as Yusuke pulled out a sketchbook and set of charcoal sticks that he’d brought with him, with Sumire and Futaba crowding around him to initially watch, but then to try to create their own charcoal sketches after Ren managed to dig out some scrap paper. </p>
<p>Akechi had no intention of joining them in their sketching, but as Ann abandoned the card table to join the crowd sitting on the floor smearing charcoal across the paper they abruptly didn’t have enough players for Tycoon. Akechi found himself frowning, wanting nothing less than to beg Ren or Kitagawa for art supplies go join in, but just as he was about to start gathering the cards and play solitaire Ren disappeared down the stairs and returned with a chess set. There was a hopeful look in his eyes, and Akechi bit back a smile, refusing to seem grateful. He chose black, Ren stuck with white, and the two of them began a silent match. </p>
<p>The sounds of the others talking between themselves and the soft brush of charcoal against paper faded into background noise, everything around them disappearing as he focused only on the game and trying to predict Ren’s next move. It never ceased to surprise him how quickly they could go back to how they’d been prior to November, when they could pretend they didn’t know each other’s darkest secrets. Playing games with no real consequence as part of a grander game that neither of them truly knew the ending of, or how deeply they’d been ensnared. Despite everything that had changed, somehow this – the darts, the jazz club, and now chess – had survived, the world around them falling away and leaving just them, their dark past and uncertain future forgotten as their shared present enveloped them. </p>
<p>When Ryuji shouted up the stairs that their curries were ready Akechi almost jumped as the reverie was shattered. Ren flinched a little too before recovering, pushing away from the table and moving Akechi’s captured pieces to one side before returning to the world that involved others and descended the stairs with the Thieves. </p>
<p>The two curries on the table looked remarkably normal when compared to Yusuke’s, and both Haru and Ryuji were smiling. There was a little curry stain on the sleeve of Haru’s cardigan, and a larger one on Ryuji’s hoodie, although the kitchen and bar looked spotless. Sojiro and Ren tried Haru’s first, and both of them hummed and looked between the food and Haru. </p>
<p>“I brought some of my vegetables along in my bag,” Haru confessed, reaching up to play with a lock of hair nervously. “I hope that’s okay...”</p>
<p>“That’s fine,” Sojiro assured her, and Ren nodded in agreement and told her it fit in with the rules. “It’s a little bitter, but it’s still good. The bitterness adds to the flavour profile, adds some character.”</p>
<p>The others descended on the curry, and Akechi found himself agreeing with the assessment. It was much better than Ann’s overly sweet creation, and was thankfully not fishy, but not quite as good as Ren’s regular ones, or Sumire’s.</p>
<p>“Four stars,” Ren said with a nod, and Haru beamed as Ann cheered. </p>
<p>“Yay, we got the same!” </p>
<p>“Hey, you gotta try mine now!” Ryuji said, still grinning even though his foot was tapping nervously. </p>
<p>“Oh boy, better you than me,” Morgana piped up from the floor, and Ryuji sent him a sharp glare. </p>
<p>Sojiro tried Ryuji’s first, and his face fell open in surprise. </p>
<p>“This...” he said quietly, “...is very good.” </p>
<p>Morgana let out a cry of shock, and Ryuji brightened even as Futaba launched herself across the bar to try a bite. </p>
<p>“I help cook dinner with my mom,” Ryuji explained with a shrug that didn’t dim his smile in the slightest, and as the others tried it and began to shower him in praise his face began to flush with embarrassment and pride. Even Akechi had to admit that it was surprisingly good. Five stars were drawn beside Ryuji’s name, making him and Sumire tied for first place, and then Akechi realised that he and Makoto were the only Phantom Thieves with thumbs who had yet to cook. </p>
<p>“Shall we?” Makoto asked him, grabbing her coat from the rack by the door, and Akechi nodded before following her outside. It was only a brief walk to the supermarket, but Makoto still seemed to feel the need to fill it with chatter. “I wasn’t expecting this to be nearly as fun as it’s ended up being,” she confessed. “I hope that you’re also having a good time?”</p>
<p>Akechi thought about it. “It’s not been as bad as I’d feared,” he answered, and Makoto nodded, looking a little relieved. </p>
<p>“I’m glad. Ren was pretty nervous about this – he really wanted to arrange something that would make both you and Sumire happy.”</p>
<p>Akechi didn’t answer, not wanting to think about Ren going out of his way to try to do something to make him happy, and thankfully they reached the store. Makoto grabbed a basket and immediately made her way over to the vegetables, and Akechi lingered in the doorway, abruptly realising that he had absolutely no idea what went into a curry recipe. If he hadn’t been distracted by games then he would have looked up recipes on his phone, but when he patted his pockets, intending to do just that, he remembered that he’d left it next to the chessboard in Leblanc. </p>
<p>Well, it didn’t really matter. Making curry couldn’t be too hard, right? If Yusuke’s ‘Unfathomable Deep’ could be successful, then so could his own attempt. He just had to grab ingredients that looked right, and cook it. It’d be fine.</p>
<p>*</p>
<p>Some time later, the Thieves were gathered around a plate of curry that still smelled vaguely burnt, little flakes of black floating on top of the sauce that had somehow turned into a dull brown. Akechi had his arms folded tightly across his chest, glaring at each of them in turn and daring them to say something about his attempt. He didn’t understand how it had gone wrong so quickly, but it seemed that every single thing he tried to improve it had just made everything worse.</p>
<p>“Note to self: Akechi cannot cook,” Futaba stated, and Akechi scowled. </p>
<p>“Cooking is a skill learned through repetition and observation,” he hissed through his gritted teeth. “I’m too busy to bother with teaching myself, and who exactly was I going to observe?”</p>
<p>Ryuji, Ann and Haru looked a little apologetic at that, but the rest of the Thieves were still staring at his curry like they were expecting it to grow a head. Makoto’s was placed beside his, perfectly neat and the correct colour as she stood before it with confidence, and Sojiro made a point to turn to hers first. </p>
<p>“Looks good,” he said, and Akechi bristled a little as Makoto beamed with pride. </p>
<p>“Thank you.”</p>
<p>Ren took a scoop of Makoto’s curry, and she watched him intensely. His face quickly grew pinched, and he let out a strangled cough. </p>
<p>“It’s… pretty hot,” he choked out, and an amused smile twitched at the corner of Akechi’s lips as Makoto’s face fell. </p>
<p>“Did I add too much spice? I wasn’t sure how much is too much, and Sis and I tend to add more spice when we cook...”</p>
<p>Sojiro tried a bit and immediately began coughing, and Makoto’s face grew even more horrified. Ryuji immediately scooped up a bit to test, but Akechi stayed well away. He’d learned his lesson with the takoyaki – there was no way in hell he was going to embarrass himself like that again. </p>
<p>“Three stars?” Ren suggested, and Sojiro nodded while trying and failing to clear his throat. Ren turned to Akechi’s plate while Sojiro recovered, but he hesitated over it. He hadn’t even hesitated over Yusuke’s ‘creation’, but apparently Akechi’s was enough to give him pause. </p>
<p>“Aren’t backing down from a challenge now, are you?” Akechi taunted, unable to help himself, and Ren’s expression grew determined. He took a moment to prepare himself before sticking his spoon into the curry and trying it. </p>
<p>There was a long beat of silence, and Akechi watched as the colour drained from Ren’s face with rising frustration. Ren pushed away from the bar, one hand over his mouth, and the Thieves moved out of the way as he made a beeline for the bathroom. </p>
<p>“You cannot be serious,” Akechi growled, as the sound of Ren spitting out his curry seemed to echo throughout the cafe. </p>
<p>“Akechi,” Yusuke began, abruptly serious, “did you just try to kill him again?”</p>
<p>“Of course not!” he snarled, but the Thieves were already staring at his curry like it was poisoned. “What possible reason could I have to want to kill him <i>now?”</i> Ren emerged from the bathroom looking distinctly uncomfortable, glancing between Akechi and the chalkboard. </p>
<p>“One star,” Ren said, and Akechi’s face twisted. </p>
<p>“This is bullshit.”</p>
<p>“That’s probably what it tastes like, dude,” Ryuji muttered, and Futaba cackled and gave him a high five. </p>
<p>Abruptly furious, Akechi scooped up a bit of his curry to prove that Ren was being overdramatic, that he couldn’t be <i>that</i> bad at cooking, and tasted it himself. </p>
<p>Then he pushed past the Thieves himself, hurrying to the bathroom to spit it out into the sink. How the hell could it taste that bad? He hadn’t thought he’d added anything that would have made it taste like <i>that</i>-</p>
<p>The others were watching him, awaiting his verdict, Ryuji seemingly holding back laughter while Haru and Makoto looked like they were bracing themselves for a tirade, and Akechi took a moment to compose himself. </p>
<p>“Fine,” he grumbled. “One star, one <i>measly</i> star, I’m clearly incompetent when it comes to cooking-”</p>
<p>“Don’t be so melodramatic,” Sojiro chided, shaking his head. “It’s just a contest, there’s no need to get angry about it.”</p>
<p>Akechi bristled anyway, but he took a deep breath before Makoto or one of the others could start commiserating with him. Sakura was right, this was just a pathetic little contest – he shouldn’t waste any energy on this. He needed to pick his battles, and this one wasn’t worth his time. </p>
<p>“Well, it looks like we have our winners,” Sojiro continued, looking past them toward the chalkboard. “Congratulations, Sumire and Ryuji.”</p>
<p>“Hell yeah!” Ryuji called out, punching the air before offering his hand to Sumire for a high five. </p>
<p>“Heck yeah!” Sumire echoed, grinning from ear to ear and gently slapping his hand back, and the others broke out into applause that had the two of them blushing with pride and Sojiro chuckling fondly. </p>
<p>“Alright, now I’m going to show you kids how it’s done. You all head back upstairs, I’ll let you know when it’s ready.”</p>
<p>“Seriously? Thanks, Boss!”</p>
<p>They hurried back up to the attic, but once again Ren was lingering at the foot of the stairs, waiting for Akechi. </p>
<p>“You definitely weren’t trying to poison me, right?” he said quietly, and Akechi glared at him. A bright, joking smile broke out across his face, and Ren gave a quiet chuckle that suddenly made the irritation swelling in his chest disappear like it had never been there. He could hear the Thieves talking loudly upstairs, and Sojiro had begun clattering about in the kitchen, but it still felt like it was just the two of them alone in the world, just like it had when they were playing chess. It shouldn’t be this easy just to be around him.</p>
<p>“Why did you decide to do this?” he asked, folding his arms. Ren tilted his head to one side, waiting for clarification. “This… celebration.”</p>
<p>Ren gave a shrug. “We had one for everyone else.”</p>
<p>“And you decided to do it now, and not after the heist?”</p>
<p>Ren couldn’t know about Akechi’s suspicions about his mortality, but he couldn’t have decided to move it forward simply on a whim. Ren began to shrug again, but when he realised that Akechi’s glare wasn’t abating, he rubbed at the back of his neck and averted his eyes. </p>
<p>“I wanted to be sure you’d turn up,” Ren admitted, and Akechi froze. “I know you didn’t really want to have to work with us in the first place, and you’ve told us that this is just until Maruki is defeated. I just… didn’t want you to leave without having a chance to have fun with us properly once.”</p>
<p>Akechi took a moment to think over that, raising an eyebrow at him. </p>
<p>“So is this your idea of fun?” he asked, deflecting.</p>
<p>“Well… yeah,” Ren said, and frowned a little. “Sorry that the contest was biased toward Sumire. I didn’t know you couldn’t cook.”</p>
<p>Akechi took a deep breath. “Yes, well, I’m sure that all of you will never let me live that down.”</p>
<p>“But are you having fun?”</p>
<p>There was genuine curiosity and concern in Ren’s face, and Akechi thought about telling him it was terrible, that it was a complete waste of time and effort that he shouldn’t have bothered with. </p>
<p>“Once we’ve finished our game I’ll let you know,” he answered, and something flickered in Ren’s eyes. </p>
<p>“Okay.” They walked up the stairs together, the narrow staircase meaning that they were pressed side by side, and as they moved Akechi swore he felt Ren’s fingertips brushing against his, but when he glanced toward him Ren was simply staring ahead. He hummed quietly to himself – he might be dead in a few days, or trapped, so what did he have to lose? He moved his hand back, making sure that it brushed against Ren’s slowly and with purpose, and saw him shudder. He smirked, amused to actually have caught him off-guard, but then Ren paused on the stairs, blocking his way up. There was a strange look in his eyes, and Akechi wondered if he was going to do something more than just touch his hand. </p>
<p>His mind unhelpfully reminded him of his conversation with Sumire after Maruki’s Palace, of whether or not Ren had a partner, and he thought of how easy it would be to escalate from a simple touch. There really wasn’t much room on this staircase – it would just take one simple movement to pin Ren against the wall, bending his back against the bannister, daring him to counter. Ren was already seeming to have some trouble maintaining eye contact, continuously glancing down towards his lips like he couldn’t quite help himself, and for a brief moment Akechi wondered if Ren had rejected Yoshizawa because he was waiting for someone else. </p>
<p>But if Ren was waiting for <i>him</i>, then he could be waiting forever. </p>
<p>That thought drew him up short. What was he thinking? Even if all of the Phantom Thieves weren’t mere feet away from them, he could be two days away from disappearing. Ren had distracted him enough over the last couple of weeks – he couldn’t afford to be distracted now. This entire curry celebration fiasco was enough of a distraction on its own, he refused to add to it. </p>
<p>He must have shown some of this revelation on his face, as something uncomfortably close to concern flickered in Ren’s eyes and his brows drew together, so instead Akechi flashed a sharp smile and continued moving, emerging in the attic before Ren could question him. </p>
<p>The others had gone back to drawing, Yusuke’s charcoal stick brushing against the paper in a rhythmic, trance-like motion, while Haru was in the middle of showing Makoto the artwork she’d begun while the other girl had been busy cooking. None of them particularly acknowledged Akechi and Ren’s reappearance, but Akechi didn’t acknowledge them either as he made his way back over to the chess set. Ren was looking at him again, waiting for his next move. And, as always, he’d give him a performance worth waiting for.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hope you enjoyed the Thieves bonding and it didn't go on too long, I couldn't resist including one final celebration before the calling card ^^</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>2/2 arrives.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Once the day of the celebration ended and 2/2 crept in, the atmosphere among the Thieves changed. The easy camaraderie from the previous day had died a swift death as they realised that this would be their final opportunity to present the calling card, and Maruki still had yet to make an appearance. Makoto and Ren seemed certain that he would go to Ren at some point during the day, and the other Thieves agreed, but none of them seemed to realise that waiting was as good as having the man dangling an axe over their heads. </p>
<p>Maruki clearly wanted them all to agree with him on their own terms, but all they had to suggest that he’d play fair was his own word. He may have been amenable so far, but why would it stay that way if he was cornered and thought he’d lose? If he thought it would guarantee his victory, then why wouldn’t he try to bypass the calling card altogether and take Ren out of the equation? If Maruki twisted his mind before he had a chance to deliver the calling card, then their token resistance would be crushed and his rule would be absolute. He’d have his reality without any issue.</p>
<p>So, although he knew he had a million other things he could be doing with what was potentially his final day, Akechi ended up lingering outside Shujin Academy that morning, staying out of sight of anyone passing by and ensuring that Maruki didn’t have a chance to corner Ren while he was alone. He was almost relieved when he spotted Ren leaving school with Sumire, the two of them engaging in a conversation that Sumire was making much more animated with wide motions used to emphasise her point. She didn’t look particularly hesitant around him despite him having rejected her, and neither of them seemed particularly concerned despite the importance of the day ahead, but Akechi still found himself following them at a distance even as they made their way to the train station. </p>
<p>The two of them changed stations at Shibuya, heading to a more residential line, and Akechi decided not to follow them further – Ren would have to come back to the station to head home, and so long as he was in the company of one of the Phantom Thieves he’d be somewhat safe. It seemed somewhat unlikely that Maruki would attack them both at once, not when one could see the attack coming and defend the other, and Sumire was capable enough in her own right. So instead he decided to spend his time around the station, watching the people who had no idea how close they were to completely losing their perception of reality, and staring at the shops that he may never see again. </p>
<p>It was strange, knowing that this could be his final day. Knowing that he could end, and all of this would continue unaffected. The days when he couldn’t take two steps down Central Street without being recognised, when images of his face at every flattering angle had been plastered across every magazine in Tokyo, felt so far away now, and he wondered how many people in this world would even notice that he was gone. He wondered if any of the people who knew him now, knew the real him and not just the lies he’d concocted for affection, would miss him. </p>
<p>Maybe, if he was wrong and he was still himself, if he hadn’t died or become a cognition, then he might start appreciating the world more. Maybe he could try to make sure he was remembered as more than a pretty face, and more than what he had done for Shido. But if this was all it was, and all he’d get, then he had to be content with that. Now was hardly the time to be having second thoughts. </p>
<p>All of a sudden, his phone began to buzz in his pocket. He tugged it out, wondering if this was Ren announcing that Maruki had finally turned up and accepted the calling card, but frowned when it continued to buzz with an incoming call, and he didn’t recognise number across the screen. He accepted it hesitantly, holding it up to his ear.</p>
<p>“Hello?”</p>
<p><i>“Hello, Akechi-kun.”</i> Akechi stiffened, almost dropping the phone as a voice that was certainly not Ren’s reached him. Well, at least this implied that Ren hadn’t been cornered somewhere.</p>
<p>“Doctor Maruki. Why are you contacting me?”</p>
<p><i>“I’m very sorry for interrupting your day,”</i> the counsellor-turned-god said, managing to somehow sound actually apologetic. <i>“I thought this would be the least distressing way for me to get into contact. I had hoped the two of us could have an honest conversation.”</i></p>
<p>“If this is you attempting to give me <i>counselling,”</i> he spat, sneering the word, “then don’t waste your breath. If I was interested in being psychoanalysed then I’d go to someone more competent, and who doesn’t believe that the solution to every problem is to erase the individual’s past entirely.”</p>
<p><i>“I don’t want to make you do anything you don’t want to do,”</i> Maruki said patiently, as though he hadn’t been spending all of his time explicitly making people behave exactly how he wanted them to. <i>“But I’ve come to see over the last few weeks that you aren’t enjoying your time in this reality, and I would like to know how I can make things better for you.”</i></p>
<p>“Certain in your victory, are you?” Akechi sneered, free hand curling into a fist. </p>
<p>
  <i>“I assure you that I am taking your group seriously as a threat, but I am also going to do absolutely everything within my power to win. It is incredibly regrettable that you do not want this world, but your individual wishes do not outweigh the will of the majority.”</i>
</p>
<p>“Oh? And have you asked every individual whose free will you will be taking their opinion?” </p>
<p><i>“I believe that their choices have become self-evident,”</i> Maruki replied, still patient. <i>“But I want to know what would make you happy, Akechi-kun, and what would make this reality good for you. I could give you a happy home life – your mother-”</i></p>
<p>“Don’t fucking touch her,” he snarled viciously into the phone, and some of the people walking near him actually flinched at his tone. “Don’t you fucking dare go desecrating her grave. She’s dead, let her rest in peace.”</p>
<p><i>“Of course,”</i> Maruki said, sounding appropriately apologetic. <i>“I was afraid she was beyond my current reach anyway, but if that is what you wish, I won’t attempt to bring her back to you. But I can still give you a loving, stable home. There are dozens of foster families, parents who lost their children, who would have been delighted to have you in their lives. I can make it so that you live with someone who loves and wants to take care of you, and so that you never had to use the power of the Metaverse. I can give you everything you’ve ever wanted, but I want to make sure that’s what you want.”</i></p>
<p><i>This man is completely deluded,</i> Akechi thought, wondering how on earth Maruki thought he would possibly be comforted by the thought of being edited into some grieving family’s life, serving as a replacement for a lost child. He took a moment to close his eyes and breathe. </p>
<p>“Doctor Maruki,” he began, composing himself. “Do you consider me beyond help? Do you consider my actions utterly unforgivable, and me to be incapable of moving beyond what I have done?”</p>
<p><i>“Of course not, Akechi-kun.”</i> Maruki sounded genuinely alarmed by the question. <i>“I just want to give you another chance.”</i></p>
<p>Akechi breathed a quiet laugh. </p>
<p>“That’s my problem with your notion of second chances, Doctor Maruki. You don’t want people to acknowledge their mistakes, or own their decisions, or make their own choices. You want them to make the right choice immediately, so long as it fits with your own idea of ‘right’. You’d erase everything I’d ever done, remove my every choice, because they weren’t the right ones in your mind, and that would erase me in the process. Not just me – everyone you want to ‘help’ you are stopping from growing as people, as <i>individuals</i>. You have no faith at all in humanity’s ability to change. All you want is a world of mindless drones.”</p>
<p>
  <i>“Akechi-kun-”</i>
</p>
<p>“You would rob Yoshizawa of her sister, of her own individuality and call it kindness. Even that woman who you claimed to love, Rumi was it?” He heard Maruki’s sharp inhale on the other end of the line, but he didn’t stop. “You didn’t give her the chance to process her trauma, or choose what she wanted – you just wiped her memories and had done with it. What if she recalls something about herself years later that shatters her perfect little world, and you’ve just condemned her to being lost in a foreign reality because you were weak? You’ve projected your own weakness and inability to grow on humanity, expecting everyone else to be just as static and useless as you are, and expect them to be happy to be treated like dolls. Tell me – did you actually want to help any of the people you were counselling with their actual problems, or just erase their pain and ‘save’ them like you did for her?”</p>
<p>Maruki was silent for a moment, and then a short, self-deprecating laugh reached him. </p>
<p>
  <i>“Excellent deductions, Akechi-kun, but I have to disagree with you. I don’t think it’s weakness to want people to be happy, and what is happiness but the absence of pain? If you remove the root cause, then you remove the pain entirely and stop it from spreading. I may not have done everything perfectly so far, but we’ll have all the time in the world for me to get it right. If I can save the world from misery, then it is my duty to do so. And I want to save you from your misery too, Akechi-kun.”</i>
</p>
<p>“I don’t want your help, or your <i>mercy.</i> I’d rather die than live in a world where my every thought is controlled by someone who refuses to accept the monstrousness of their own actions.”</p>
<p>
  <i>“...I’m truly sorry that you feel that way, Akechi-kun, but I don’t believe that what you’re saying is true. I don’t believe that if you were truly immersed in a reality successfully tailored towards you, that you would continue to reject it. You cannot currently accept a world in which you are happy unconditionally because you feel that you don’t deserve it, but you do. I know that the means may be distressing to you, but I truly believe that if you experience the ends for yourself, then you will understand that this reality is truly for the best.”</i>
</p>
<p>“What I know is that you are unwilling to be reasoned with, and that you are fully prepared to ignore my wishes,” he snarled. “I am truly going to enjoy tearing your precious reality apart.”</p>
<p>He hung up on Maruki before he could say something else to try to change his mind, and resisted the urge to throw his phone across the train station. He took in a deep breath, flexing his hands. That had been a colossal waste of both of their time, and had now left him disturbed as well – if Maruki had gone out of his way to contact him and was so certain that he’d win, then there was a chance that he truly would try to get to Ren and ensure his own victory. </p>
<p>He hadn’t seen Ren return to the station, but then again there were hundreds of people wandering around, so he bought a ticket and headed to Yongen-Jaya anyway. If Maruki came for Joker, then he’d be ready for him. He wasn’t going to let him win so easily.</p>
<p>*</p>
<p>Maruki arrived at Leblanc as darkness fell. Akechi stayed outside to begin with, close enough to hear him talking with Ren through the door, ready to intervene if he heard anything threatening, but he should have known better than to think that he’d be able to do anything without Maruki’s knowledge. He was summoned inside soon enough, and then Maruki decided to pull the rug out from under him one final time. </p>
<p>He supposed he should have guessed that it was Ren who had brought him here. Only Ren could possibly think that he was fine just the way he was – only Ren could possibly want the real him in the world without conditions, without immediately letting him know who he owed his very life to, without even <i>knowing</i> that this was his wish. But even as Maruki said it, it seemed impossible for this to be the case – this couldn’t be Ren’s wish, he couldn’t be that foolish, he couldn’t still believe in him after everything that had happened… </p>
<p>But Ren was looking at him like his world was ending, like everything he’d dared to hope would come to pass had been taken away from him, and Akechi still couldn’t quite believe it. Maruki couldn’t have been <i>right</i>, this couldn’t have been what Ren wanted. <i>He</i> couldn’t be what Ren wanted. </p>
<p>Maruki was talking like his non-existence was a trump card, like this revelation would be what finally tipped Ren over to his side and pretending to be apologetic about it, and that was not only completely ridiculous but had to be offensive too considering what all of the Thieves had already sacrificed just by deciding to fight this reality. <i>This</i> of all things couldn’t be the thing that would turn Ren against his principles and go back on his word. He couldn’t possibly be a reason why Ren would consider giving up the world itself. </p>
<p>Maruki didn’t stay long after he’d said his piece, but Ren still had enough of his wits about him to give him the calling card. Morgana had left quickly enough once he’d been asked to, but as he faced Ren he saw that the devastated expression was still on his face. He was the leader of the Phantom Thieves, he was the fearless Joker who had outmanoeuvred him time and time again – he couldn’t have been caught off-guard by this, he shouldn’t look so genuinely distraught at the thought of losing someone who should have meant nothing to him. Less than nothing – he should be celebrating that the enemy who wanted him dead would never be a threat to him again, that once his usefulness had ended he would conveniently dispose of himself. Joker wouldn’t have to get his hands dirty ensuring that Akechi would never again hurt him or the people he cared about. </p>
<p>But there were the smiles, the lingering touches, the bright glow of his face when Akechi rose to his challenges and challenged him in turn. As much as he wanted to deny it, as much as his rational mind wanted to insist that this couldn’t be the case, he couldn’t come to any conclusion other than that Joker genuinely cared for him despite everything he’d done and everything he was. Genuinely cared for him much more than he should have, enough for him to bend reality itself without even knowing it. </p>
<p>“What exactly do you intend to do?” he asked, folding his arms across his chest and watching him, waiting for his answer.  Ren couldn’t turn back now, couldn’t go back on his word and just decide that he no longer valued the true reality just because Akechi may not be there. </p>
<p>But for a moment he saw hesitance in his face, reluctance to give him up, and Akechi felt a sudden stab of something uncomfortably like fear. Ren had bent the world to have him near, but would he be willing to break it to keep him there, in spite of his wishes? To keep him trapped and helpless, but alive? Ren couldn’t betray him now, not after he had inexplicably forgiven his own betrayal. He couldn’t just decide to keep him trapped for his own good, not after Akechi had made it so abundantly clear that he had no desire to be caged.</p>
<p>For an awful instant, he imagined Ren telling him that he was taking Maruki’s offer. That he was choosing to stay in this twisted world and that Akechi would have to learn to be happy here, just like Maruki had promised him. He imagined Ren trying to convince him that Maruki was right and he was wrong, that he’d enjoy being trapped because they’d be together and he ‘deserved’ to be happy, like that made any difference.</p>
<p>It wasn’t a matter of whether or not he ‘deserved’ happiness. That wasn’t the point. A cage was still a cage, even if the jailer was the only person in the world he cared about. </p>
<p>Maybe it wouldn’t feel like a cage. Maybe he’d find a way to forget that he was trapped. But so long as Ren had that power over him, the comfort that his presence gave him would forever be tainted. </p>
<p>Maruki wasn’t offering him a second chance. He was taking the one true happiness in his life and turning it into a chain to bind him with, and wanted to be thanked for it. </p>
<p>“We’re stopping Maruki,” Ren said instead, and the relief that hit him even at Ren’s soft, fragile tone was almost overwhelming. For the first time since he had set foot in this reality, Akechi felt something like peace. Ren hadn’t just chosen to ignore his wishes and decide what was best for him – he had listened. He’d acknowledged that he had this power over him, but hadn’t used it to trap him. He’d let him go.</p>
<p>He felt something in his soul shift, his resolve finally solidifying as he realised that this was it. This was his last day, but tomorrow he would be free. No one would control him anymore, and in the process he would be one of the ones saving the world, just like Sumire had said. He could have taken this moment to beg for his sham of a life, to give up on his principles and the truth to stay here, but he didn’t. He’d made his choices, and in the end he would save the world over himself.</p>
<p>His spirits of rebellion, the bloody chaos and the desperate craving of true justice intertwining, no longer brutally opposed, and Loki and Robin Hood bowed as a third spirit made itself known. His own soul evolving with his conviction, just like it had for the others, and Hereward coming forth, blessing him with new power and the strength to fight for truth and justice, real over the ideal. </p>
<p>He left Leblanc with a smile, but he only made it a few steps away before he heard the bell above the door ringing, and turned back to see Ren stumbling after him in the street. His usual grace was gone, and he was still staring at Akechi like he was waiting for him to offer another solution, another chance for them to somehow get through this. </p>
<p>“Wait,” Ren said softly, and Akechi waited, folding his arms as Ren tried to compose himself. If there was one single thing that was regrettable about his choice, it was that look of misery that wouldn’t leave Ren’s face.</p>
<p>“Please just... tell me you’ve been happy,” Ren said, voice hoarse. Ren’s eyes were red and shining behind the glasses, his expression agonising, and Akechi had to look away. “Just tell me that over the last few weeks when you’ve known about all of this, I didn’t make everything worse.”</p>
<p>Akechi thought about the visits to the jazz and the darts club, of the soft smiles and challenging looks Ren sent him. At how when his mind had been circling, desperately trying to find an answer one way or another as to whether or not he was alive, Ren had distracted him over and over again even though he couldn’t have known what he was doing. At his easy attempts at comfort after the Reaper and Minamimoto, how he had tried to help him without even thinking about it. He didn’t owe Ren an answer (who was he kidding? He owed Ren everything, he owed Ren his life, he wouldn’t even be here if he hadn’t wanted him here, and <i>that was the problem</i>) but he had lied to him for so long, so why not change up the script a little? </p>
<p>“I was happy when I was with you.” He looked in his eyes, and at Ren’s helpless, hopeless expression he felt a foreign tightening in his chest. “But that was because it was my choice, and my decision. I refuse to be trapped here.” He offered him a small smile. “I’m sorry. I can’t stay.”</p>
<p>A tear rolled down Ren’s cheek, and Akechi could barely process it. It just didn’t make sense for Ren to care so much about this. Ren’s lips parted slightly, like he was desperate to think of some way to change his mind but was drawing a blank. Akechi narrowed his eyes – Joker had already given him his word, he couldn’t change his mind now and ruin everything they’d worked for-</p>
<p>“I won’t betray your wishes,” he said, his words so quiet they were almost a whisper. “But I’m not giving up on you.” He took a step closer, something determined shining in his eyes behind the tears. “I’ll look for you. I won’t just leave you behind and forget about you.”</p>
<p>He wanted to tell him that he was being stupid, that once this was over he should forget about him and just move on with his life, that he shouldn’t put his life on hold on the off-chance that Maruki was bluffing, but Akechi had always been selfish. He wanted Ren to keep looking at him like he was worthy of being witnessed. He wanted to be someone who mattered enough to not be forgotten, even if he was fated to disappear. He wanted to be remembered. He wanted to still be <i>wanted</i>, even after his usefulness had ended and even when they’d all be better off without him. He wanted <i>Ren</i> to still want him, even if he couldn’t have him.</p>
<p>“I know you won’t,” he told him, his own voice softer than he intended. “You’re far too sentimental to let me go.”</p>
<p>Ren gave him a shaky smile, and reached out with a trembling hand to take his. Even through his glove, he could feel that Ren’s warmth. Their fingers intertwined easily, and Ren’s other hand alighted on his cheek, touch soft and almost reverent. Akechi let himself lean into the touch. Ren moved a little closer, every moment slow and telegraphed, giving him a chance to move away if he wanted, and Akechi’s own eyes fluttered shut. </p>
<p>Ren’s lips brushed against Akechi’s gently, fireworks bursting across his skin with every touch, and as he pressed a little firmer Akechi lifted his free hand and tangled his fingers in Ren’s hair, bringing them closer. </p>
<p>A first kiss should feel like a new beginning – instead it felt like a goodbye.</p>
<p>Ren rested his forehead against Akechi’s, his breath softly fanning across his face. “I will find you,” he promised. Akechi gently worked his hand free and cupped Ren’s cheek, his thumb sweeping away the tear tracks. “I won’t lose you again.”</p>
<p>He was so foolishly determined. Once the Metaverse was gone, it wouldn’t matter if he looked for him or not; he’d either be gone with it, or he wouldn’t be. Ren could look forever and never find him, but maybe he would. Maybe somehow they could find each other, without Shido, without Maruki, without gods and the universe pitting them against one another. Maybe he didn’t deserve the chance, but maybe the world would do Ren another favour. Maybe he could pull off another miracle. </p>
<p>Akechi let out a tiny, breathless laugh. He’d never been one to believe in miracles, but maybe there was a first time for everything. Maybe this time, he could try. “Come and find me, then.”</p>
<p>Ren smiled. </p>
<p>“I will. I promise.”</p>
<p>*</p>
<p>The reality fades like awakening from a dream, the soft light of the real world creeping through the clouds and rousing those under the spell. Ren blinked in the weak February sun, taking in a breath and searching for Akechi’s familiar silhouette, searching for proof that Maruki had been wrong and that the person he’d spent time with for the last month was the real deal-</p>
<p>-but in the instant between closing and opening his eyes, Odaiba vanished around him and grey walls replaced it. Disorientation hit him hard, and as he looked around the room he had been abruptly thrust into with rising dread, he began to recognise his surroundings. Or, not quite <i>recognise</i>, because he was pretty sure he’d never been in this particular room, but he knew the layout. The thin futon, the dull walls with no decoration, the thin, shapeless clothes that were draped across his body… this was just like the cell he’d spent the night in a year ago, when Shido had ruined his life, although he got the impression that this was going to be a much longer stay. </p>
<p>He’d woken up in a prison cell. </p>
<p><i>I hope Futaba took Morgana home,</i> was the first thought that went through his mind. </p>
<p><i>Good thing we had the post-heist celebration party early,</i> was the second. </p>
<p>And then-</p>
<p>
  <i>If I’m in here, Goro never turned up to take my place.</i>
</p>
<p>There were a thousand reasons why Akechi might not have made it to the crossing in time. Maybe in an imperfect world there had been too many people around for him to push past, or his train pass had stopped working and he’d had to queue up to buy a ticket. Maybe one of his fans had cornered him, demanding a conversation and an autograph and he hadn’t managed to get away from them in time. Maybe they had missed each other by seconds, fate keeping them apart just like it had brought them together in the first place. </p>
<p>He rested his head against the cold wall behind him, staring up at the ceiling and trying to ignore how uncomfortably empty the pocket of his prison-issue trousers felt without the familiar weight of Akechi’s glove pressing against him. Their reunion and duel might be a little delayed now that he’d woken up in prison, but he’d get out eventually. He’d still be able to keep his promises – all of them.</p>
<p>Akechi might be a good liar, but he had tells. Ren had come to realise that he always smiled more when he lied, for one. (Which he supposed explained why he’d always smiled so much when he was the Detective Prince.) But when they were outside Leblanc and he’d told Ren to find him once this was all over, Akechi had been wearing a different smile completely. Not the grin of a lie, nor the wide-eyed look of innocence that couldn’t quite hide the fire behind it that had pulled Ren in the first time they’d met. It was a smile that Ren hadn’t recognised, but wanted to see more of. He couldn’t just see one genuine smile from him and never see another. </p>
<p>He couldn’t just have one kiss from him and never have another.</p>
<p>He’d promised to look for him, to never give him up. He’d defeated two gods – finding his rival would be nothing compared to that. And once he found him, there would be so much they could see and do without the spectres of Shido and Maruki hanging over them. </p>
<p>He wondered if Akechi had spent much time in the countryside, or if he’d been in the big city all his life. He wondered what he’d think of the rural town Ren had called home, and what all of the people from back there would say if he came back with the boy who used to be the second Detective Prince hanging off his arm. Hell, they’d probably have something to say even if he just came back with <i>friends</i>, let alone… whatever Akechi was and would be. His boyfriend? A rival that he also kissed? His antithesis? His ‘greatest wish’? All of the above? </p>
<p>Well, he supposed that for now he didn’t have to decide exactly what Akechi was to him. When he found him again, they could work it out together. There wouldn’t be any more deadlines now, no guillotine blades dangling over their necks, no ever-present threat to cut their time short and separate them again. They’d have all the time in the world to figure out a future that belonged to them alone, a future that they’d fought for and earned and had a place for both of them. </p>
<p>Akechi might have had a headstart, but Ren would catch up quickly enough. He had every time before, and like every other time, he’d give him something worth waiting for.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>So, that's the end! <br/>Thank you so much for reading, and thank you for every kudos, comment and bookmark - every single one made me so, so happy, and I really hope that you enjoyed this thing that ended up so much longer than I expected it to be :)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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